Bad Kind of Butterflies
by Fragilelittleflame
Summary: I spent the last four years focused on school and leaving my demons behind me. Then, when I should have been thriving, I was thrown the one client no publicist in the city wanted. Tonight Show host Edward Cullen. My job would have been a lot easier if he didn't make my stomach flutter every time I saw him. E/B - AU/AH - RATED M
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

_I got bad, bad, bad kind of butterflies_

_Like when you got something to hide_

_Lies, tellin' you that I'm alright_

_Tonight, tonight_

_Bad, bad butterflies in my chest_

_There's something I gotta confess_

_Yes, somebody's stuck in my head_

_~ Camila Cabello, __**Bad Kind of Butterflies**_

**BPOV**

The rude woman with a headset led me to the side of the stage. Maybe rude was presumptuous of me, especially since I knew what an asshole the man she worked for was. Still, she led me to the side of the stage without much more than a nod before she rushed off.

He didn't know I was here and had no idea I had even been hired in the first place. Not that I wanted to be here either. I could list a good twenty other things I'd rather be doing than watching the filming of this show.

I was supposed to be finally thriving. I had graduated college with every honor possible thanks to myself and myself alone. Worked my ass off in an internship at the best public relations firm in the city full of public relations nightmares. And when I graduated college I had my absolute dream job lined up at said firm.

Then, Esme Cullen walked in our office and fucked up the last four years of my work. Being the new girl meant I got the short end of the stick that was the public relations nightmare of Edward Cullen.

Yes, she was beautiful and kind and unfailingly sweet. Sure, she was just trying to help her son, even though he was a thirty-four-year old man who could make his own decisions. Still, I had been planting seeds for months. Clients I wanted in on, clients who I knew I could work well with.

Then the biggest asshole in Hollywood's mother decides he needs to clean up his image and I'm stuck with him.

_I want your full attention on this, Bella. _

_The Cullen's have been our clients for years and we can't lose them. _

The meeting where I was told it was my job to clean up Edward Cullen's image was burned in my brain. I went in to public relations because I loved the challenge. Loved solving other people's problems. Loved having something to focus on other than my own problems. That didn't mean I wanted to have to try to restore the image of a man who made a living tearing down everyone else.

You would think they'd give the case to someone who had been at the firm as long as the Cullen's had been clients. Not that I wasn't good at my job, or going to be considering I had started less than a month ago, but the Cullen's had been a staple in Hollywood for years and only had the best of the best on their team. Problem was those people had enough clout to say they didn't want Cullen on their roster because he was a lost cause.

So, instead, I got to start my career with a practically unsolvable client. Especially because he was a client who didn't even want my help in the first place.

I watched the lights dim, heard the crowd suddenly go silent before a man walked by, telling them to cheer a moment before he came out.

I had never seen him in person. I saw picture after picture of him over the last two weeks as I researched my newest, first, and only client. While I already despised the jerk, the countless comments from women wanting him suddenly seemed very valid. Especially when you saw him in person.

I hated myself for the way my stomach filled with butterflies as I watched him gracefully walk across the stage, cocky smirk on his lips. Full, pouty, pink lips that I bet tasted phenomenal. I shook my head, clearing my thoughts, and promising myself never to get distracted by his looks again.

"Hello everybody, and welcome to the Tonight Show," he said smoothly, standing there in a perfect suit with his perfectly imperfect hair. And just as quickly as the fluttering butterflies invaded my stomach they flew away, saving themselves from the wrath of Cullen as he started his monologue.

In my mind, Hollywood was broken up in to three groups. The talent that made everything run, the most important part. The people that took care of them; managers, publicists, agents and such. Then, there were the Edward Cullen's of the industry. The ones who made a living bad mouthing everyone else. To me, he was in the ranks of trashy magazines and fake YouTube channels that did nothing but _expose_ people for situations that were no one's business in the first place. Half of which were made up anyway.

For the next two hours I got to listen to him talk trash about everyone and everything that had happened over the last week. There was nothing like listening to an asshole who knew nothing about a situation give his two cents. It was no wonder no one wanted anything to do with him these days.

When things were wrapping up I headed back through the halls and into the dressing room with _Cullen_ written on the door. I didn't need to snoop, I was fairly certain my weeks locked in my apartment researching him gave me more information than I would get out of his sparse belongings here.

I sat on the couch in the back, phone in hand and picked a piece of lint off of my dark jeans. It took me a good hour to pair the black jeans with a white camisole and blazer. Fashion was never my thing but, thankfully, Rosalie was around to make sure I never made a complete fool of myself.

The door swung open and he walked in, somehow walking in a way that made my mind go fuzzy for a quick second. I collected myself quickly and took advantage of the few moments before he knew I was here.

He pulled the mic from his tie and tossed it at someone out the door, grabbed the cold bottle of water on the counter, then bright emerald eyes met mine through the mirror in front of him.

"Who the hell are you?" he grunted, turning to face me.

I hated myself for staring at him for a second too long before responding. Yes, he was pretty, but he was my job. And an asshole. And married. _Damn, that was the most important one. _

I stood, grabbing my tote bag from beside my feet, and took a few steps toward him with my hand held out. "Isabella Swan. I work for Newton & Cheney Relations."

He frowned, fluffy eyebrows coming to a deep V on his forehead. "The PR firm?"

"Yes," I said, smiling through my self-hatred. "Esme Cullen has hired us to work with you. You should have an email from her explaining the situation."

Esme Cullen was a living legend, an actress turned philanthropist. She has used her notoriety in an attempt to help people all over the world. She went from acting in Academy Award winning films to making documentaries with her husband about real problems, real people. It helped that Carlisle Cullen was, of course, an Academy Award winning director. They made quite the couple.

I hadn't met them. They were far above my paygrade at the firm, but I had done a little research on them, too. They appeared to be a couple of the kindest, most well-spoken and genuine people I had heard of in this business. They were both out of town, probably somehow saving the world, but I was told she would send him a message tonight explaining everything.

Edward continued frowning at me as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

As he read I awkwardly put my hand back at my side, considering he never bothered to shake it. I watched his face as he read what I hoped was his mother's message. How uncomfortable would it be if he was simply shifting through emails?

It might seem overly controlling, his parents hiring people to hopefully change the overwhelming public opinion that their son was an insensitive jerk. When they talked to me, though, it seemed like more than that.

They weren't parents who were worried about their son dragging them down. They were parents worried about their son in general and didn't know how else to help him. They also knew he was about to get booted from his show because no one liked him. _That_ was left out of his email, though.

He must have finished, because he pocketed his phone and leaned against the counter behind him. Dark green eyes landed on me without a word. For a good two unbearably awkward minutes.

"How old are you?" he asked, catching me off guard.

I expected him to try and fire me. Hoped he would, really, even though I was told he didn't have the authority to do that. My age wasn't the first thing I thought we would discuss.

"Twenty-two."

The brows that had been in a deep V from the moment he saw me shot up. "The biggest PR firm in Los Angeles sent a girl fresh out of college for me?"

I shrugged. "No one with any say over their clients wanted you."

For the first time in my life, I saw him laugh. Genuinely laugh. Like a full body chortle that was nowhere near what his laughs on his show looked or sounded like. I had watched nearly every second of his show over the last few weeks, and I had never seen anything like it. It was kind of beautiful.

"How much are you getting paid?" he asked once he calmed down.

"Um – "

"I can get you an interview at any other PR firm in the city and cover your living expenses until then if you walk out of here right now."

God, he was infuriating. Just when I saw… something in him. Something not hard and cold and mean, he went and proved his status as Hollywood's biggest asshole.

"No."

"No?"

"No. I was hired to do a job, and as unfortunate as that job is, I'm going to do it. Could we meet sometime this weekend and discuss things?"

There would be no progress made while he was still trying to talk me out of the job in the first place. Maybe a day or so to calm down would make him more amenable.

He stared at me again. It wasn't a creepy or perverted look, just an uncomfortably intense gaze. One that made those butterflies from earlier reappear.

"I'll be home all weekend. You can come by Sunday afternoon. One?"

His offer surprised me. I thought tonight was going to be like pulling teeth, but maybe he was saving that for Sunday.

"Okay," I nodded. "I'll see you then, Mr. Cullen," I muttered, my bravery for the day quickly running out, completely wiped from not cowering under his intense emerald gaze.

I left quickly, feeling like I could breathe for the first time in hours once I was outside. My drive home was filled with traffic and once I stumbled inside I was ready for some peace and quiet.

Rose was gone, but it wasn't surprising. It was a Friday night and she had a phone full of friends to get in trouble with. We were best friends, had been since college, but I was never her go-to for a night out. And that was completely fine with me.

Socializing, interacting with anyone outside of school or work where our conversation was typically pre-determined… it was never for me. Part of it could be blamed on my upbringing, I knew that, but part of it was just in innate awkwardness around people.

School and work, they were all I really thought about. Ever. It was a lot easier than thinking about my own issues.

**-B-**

The next morning, I met Rose at her gym. It wasn't hers, technically, but she was a trainer there. It was a beautiful place, had to be to compete with the million and one other gyms in Los Angeles, but it was also comfortable. It wasn't the kind of gym where you constantly felt judged or like someone's eyes were on you. At least, I hadn't felt like that.

Rosalie got me in for free, thanks in large part to one of the co-owners of the gym having a blatant crush on her. Thankfully, it wasn't in a creepy way. The guy, Emmett, seemed like a big, muscled teddy bear. He made it known that he had a thing for Rose, but he wasn't holding her hostage or anything. The ball was in her court, and she was having fun dribbling a while as she made up her mind.

Rose and I met when I was a freshman in college, at the University of California: Los Angeles. I was there on a full ride scholarship and already stressed out after one class and the frustratingly beautiful blonde working in the library took pity on me. We became fast friends, and stayed that way even when Rose graduated a couple years before me.

It was hard to lose touch when you were roommates. Still, the sentiment was there. She was the older sister I never had but always wanted.

Her career path as a personal trainer also proved useful as well, considering I was an angry kid and needed an outlet. Hell hath no fury like Rosalie Hale yelling at you to keep your plank for another twenty seconds.

My anger was gone now, most of the time, but I still enjoyed my time in the gym with her. If only for the show of Rose yelling at the periodic shmuck that booked a class with her because he thought he had a chance with her, only for Rose to kick his ass in the first training session. I swore by the fact that it would make a better reality show than anything currently on television.

When she was done with her client, she sauntered over to where I was running on the elliptical. Somehow, she hadn't broken a sweat. I, however, was dripping after forty minutes here.

"So, how'd it go?" she asked, tossing a towel at me.

I wrapped it over my shoulders, stopping the machine and catching my breath before I could talk. "As well as could be expected."

"Oh, come on. I need more details than that! It's Edward Cullen for crying out loud."

I shrugged. "I talked to him for maybe seven minutes and he confused the hell out of me," I admitted.

"What was confusing?"  
"You know what I think of him, especially after my research. But I swear, for just a second, he seemed like a completely different person. Laughing, maybe even cracking a funny joke for once. I don't know. Maybe that's the butterflies talking."

Rose's brows shot up. "Butterflies?"

"Yes. Butterflies. In my stomach. Stupid little buggers," I grumbled.

Her eyes softened, but not in a sweet way. In a this-girl-has-a-crush-on-the-worst-guy-imaginable way. "You got butterflies around him?"

I knew butterflies around a guy usually meant a crush. But I was fairly certain I had never had one of those. And I was damn sure I wasn't going to have one on Edward Cullen of all people. "It's not – no. Only for a second, then he started talking and they flew away. It's nothing," I answered defensively. Maybe too defensively, even for my own liking. My life would be much easier if Edward Cullen were a little less attractive, though.

_Married. Married. Has two children. Ten years older than you. And did I mention married?_

It was a reaction I wasn't expecting at all. I stared at his face on my computer screen for two weeks straight and not once did a single butterfly pop up. He was obviously handsome, but a lot of people were. In person he was drop dead gorgeous, but I was sure after tomorrow my slight infatuation would disappear. After more than a few minutes with him, once I saw who he really was, those butterflies would be dead for good. They had to be.

"Are you sure you don't want me to set you up with someone?" Rose asked out of the blue.

"What?"

"Maybe the reason you're getting these… butterflies… is because you're finally ready to date."

I rolled my eyes, hopping off of the elliptical and grabbing my water bottle. "Dating has never been my priority."

"No. But you're a twenty-two-year old woman who had needs whether you ignore them or not."

I very nearly spit my water out all over her.

Just the thought of walking into a restaurant to spend two hours with a strange man I had never met… having to talk to him about God knows what… _torture. Literal torture._

Rose's bluntness shouldn't have been surprising, not after I had known her for four years, but it still caught me off guard sometimes. It wasn't the first time she had tried to get me to date. More than once I had come home to a 'friend' of hers at the house who just happened to be joining us for dinner.

It was sweet and I appreciated that she was trying to help me, but dating just wasn't for me. Not right now.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm serious. You're twenty-two. You have a body girls would kill for. Have some fun instead of working twenty-four-seven, Bella," she said softly, which meant she was being about as honest as one could get.

"I need to figure this whole Cullen thing out before I can focus on anything else."

Rosalie scoffed, rolling her eyes in my direction. "Oh, he can't be that bad."

**-B-**

The night before my meeting with Cullen, I sat myself in my bed with my laptop to do some more research. I wasn't sure he was going to be very forthcoming with information, and I wanted to be prepared for anything.

But, I got distracted by clips of his show. There were hundreds upon hundreds online. He started hosting his late night talk show when he was twenty-seven, about seven years ago. Before that he did some acting, following in his mother's footsteps, then he settled on the talk show. A prime spot usually for someone who had been working in the industry for twenty years, but somehow he snagged it out from everyone else.

Even though I was far from his biggest fan, he was good the first few years. He was personable and laughed and seemed genuinely interested in the people he interviewed. No, he wasn't interviewing diplomats or presidents but he was talking to people who were impressive in their own right. And he was good at it.

He was the complete opposite of me. It seemed like he could keep a conversation going for hours if he wanted.

Then, about two years ago, there's an obvious change. His smile was forced, I could tell thanks to the hours of clips I had watched the last few weeks. His questions were tinged with annoyance and backhanded compliments. He wasn't warm and inviting anymore, he was cold and uncaring.

And now my job was to try and get the public to ignore every cold and insensitive thing he had said on his show in the last few years. A job even the best publicists in Hollywood ran away from.

It made me loathe the man even more when my dreams that night were filled with his genuine laughter and bright green eyes.

**A/N: Me? With a **_**new**_** story? Who would have ever thought! I'm not going to make any promises about lengths of anything because we all know I am a bold face liar in that department. But, I have quickly fallen in love with these two as I've been writing. I've got a few chapters under my belt, so expect an update every Friday for now. Maybe a random Tuesday update every now and then if I get too excited. **

**Another little disclaimer: I, surprisingly, do not know the exact ins and outs of late night television or PR! Please don't drag me if there is something off or inaccurate. It's fanfiction for a reason. **

**Anyway… I'd love to know your first impressions on these two!**


	2. Chapter 2

**BPOV**

His house was extraordinary. It was the epitome of Los Angeles mansion, exactly what would pop into someone's mind if they were told to envision a place in Los Angeles. It was modern and classic and probably cost more money than I could even comprehend. I knew it did, actually. Because my research told me he paid about $13 million for the place a few years ago.

I stuttered in to the intercom before I was let in to his neighborhood. For a moment, as the attendant was checking my name, I was worried he wouldn't even let me in. Thankfully, the doors opened and I was able to drive my suddenly shabby looking silver Volvo through the neighborhood.

Every house was spectacular, they had to be in this area. But Edward Cullen's was… special somehow. Maybe it was just because I knew who was in it. I was sure I had to have driven by more than a few Grammys or Academy Awards on my way up here.

I parked in the long driveway, grabbing my bag and getting out of the car. I straightened myself, hoping my cream dress with a pencil skirt would do. My heels clicked with each step I took toward his door and, for some reason, the pit in my stomach made me feel like I was walking toward an unknown disaster.

Ringing the doorbell, I fiddled with the handle on my tote. This whole thing was uncharted territory for me. Life was uncharted territory for me, really. School could only prepare you for so much and I was kind of just pretending to know what I was doing these days.

The door swinging open snapped me out of my downward spiral and there was a miniature Edward Cullen standing in front of me. Not all that miniature, maybe just about six inches shorter. But the hair, the eyes, hell, even the cheekbones were the same.

"Hey," the kid said, eyes wide as he looked me up and down. Not in the same harmless way his father looked at me two days ago, either. In the creepy, uncomfortable, this-kid-is-only-sixteen kind of way.

"I'm Masen. My friends call me Mase, though," he smirked.

"Um, is your father here?"

"I've got it, Mase," Edward's voice came from around the corner and then he was in front of me. And those God damn butterflies were back. Flying all over the place and making me wonder what his hair would feel like between my fingers.

He was dressed casually in a pair of faded jeans and a black t-shirt. It was like night and day, seeing him after his show on Friday to seeing him here. Again, my theory that he was like two different people seemed to fit.

"Damnit, Dad," the kid, Masen, muttered after Edward ruffled his hair and sulked off.

My eyes met his once his son was gone. His gaze was locked on me, staring at me like he was in the middle of solving life's biggest questions.

"Um, may I come in?" I whispered, my inner awkwardness coming out. Once we sat down and got to work, I would be fine. It was this beginning part that made me want to tear my hair out.

"Shit, yes, of course," he stuttered, standing aside and holding the door open for me.

I tried my best not to let my jaw drop as I looked around. The house was stunning from the outside, and just as gorgeous from the inside. The entryway was surrounded in beautiful warm, wooden walls. There was a staircase to my right and, as I followed Edward forward, I gasped at the view in front of me. Nearly the entire exterior of the living room was a glass wall, overlooking a pool and the most spectacular view of the city I had ever seen. _Wow._

"Exquisite, isn't it?"

I snapped out of my haze to find him staring at me again. "Oh, um, yes. It's beautiful."

"Are you hungry?" he asked, gesturing me to sit on a crisp grey couch overlooking the entire world. "I have fresh baked muffins if you're interested."

I frowned to myself. "You bake?"

"I have two children to feed and, shockingly, they like to eat on a regular basis. Sunday is muffin day," he said simply, disappearing before returning quickly with a blueberry muffin nearly the size of my head on a plate.

"Oh, I – "

"Consider it a peace offering." He sat down on a chair opposite of me with a smirk. A decidedly less creepy and more butterfly-inducing smirk than the one his son gave me.

I sat down, setting the plate on the dark glass table in front of me. Edward Cullen was supposed to be an asshole. It wasn't just his show that gave me that impression, it was every story ever printed about him. He was said to be rude and pompous and the entitled son of two of the kindest people in the industry.

He wasn't supposed to be baking muffins on a Sunday for his kids or walking around all relaxed and sexy.

"Okay," I sighed, grabbing my notebook out of my bag. It was dubbed my Cullen Case File in my head. Every piece of information I had on him was in here. "Well, my job is to try and make it so people don't actively hate you anymore – "

"I think that's a little extreme. I'm not _that_ hated," he quipped, smiling over at me playfully. Again, the difference between the man sitting in front of me and the man I had watched for hours on YouTube last night were staggering.

"You're rude to guests and uninterested in everything they say. The so-called game segments in your show are dull and honestly painful to watch. Sure, people may not hate you, but they sure as hell don't like you. Your parents – "

"My parents have an uncontrollable need to please people. I don't."

I sighed, eying the giant muffin in front of me for a distraction. I picked off a bit of the top and plopped it in my mouth. It was singlehandedly the most delicious thing I had ever eaten in my life, but I did my best to keep my expression from showing it. _Peace offering_, I thought.

Edward nodded. "Please, continue."

"Like I said, my job is to make it so you're… more well liked. The way I see it…" I looked down at my paper, knowing I had my whole spiel planned. Suddenly, it seemed completely wrong though. Still, I went through everything. "The way I see it, you have three redeeming qualities. One, you seem to be one of the few men around who doesn't have a pile of sexual harassment claims against him hiding out in HR. So, good for you on having basic human decency."

He chuckled and I swear my stomach felt like it was going to float away.

"Two," I continued, ignoring every butterfly fluttering throughout my body. "You actually used to be good at what you do. You used to ask insightful questions and make people laugh and forget their problems for an hour every weeknight."

Instead of waiting for a reaction to what could only be taken as an insult, I kept going to my final point. "And, three, your family. You've managed to raise two kids with your high school girlfriend turned wife and stay together for sixteen years."

When I finally looked up at him, his eyes were burning into me. I couldn't tell if it was anger or something else, but it made my cheeks heat up.

"Well, I hate to disappoint you, but my wife and I have been separated for seven years."

My jaw fell open and my eyes dropped to his left hand, still adorned with a gold band. The one constant in my research had been that he and Irina Cullen, formerly Denali, had been happily married since they were eighteen. Granted, they had gotten married because Irina had ended up pregnant and abandoned by her family, but still. They were supposed to still be together at the very least.

"Seven years?" I gasped. That was a long time for no one to know they were separated. That was a long time for a separation in general.

"The only reason we're not officially divorced is for the kids. The media is brutal and a nine-year-old doesn't need to be hearing about their parents fake illicit affairs everywhere they turn."

That made sense, I supposed. But that was seven years ago. The twins, Masen and Lucy, they were sixteen now. Surely old enough to understand the concept of divorce considering I managed to figure it out by five.

"But – "

"Look," Edward interrupted, leaning over with his elbows on his knees. "I understand your purpose. My mother doesn't want me to be publicly shamed or any shit like that. I promised her I would cooperate, and I will. But my children are where I draw the line."

I was immediately offended that he thought I would try and somehow use his children in some kind of publicity tactic.

"No – I – I understand. I wasn't saying those are the things I want to use to restore your image. They're the things I was using to convince myself you were worthy of saving," I stuttered, oversharing entirely too much.

"Ah," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "And what was your conclusion?"

"Well, I don't really have a choice. But it does help me sleep a little better at night knowing I'm not trying to help a misogynic, talentless, heartless asshole."

Before he could respond his mini-me came back in, standing beside his father. He was in a pair of swim trunks now, minus the shirt and staring at me like I should somehow be impressed.

"Weren't you and your sister going to swim?" Edward asked, looking over at his son with a knowing smirk.

"Yeah, well, we didn't want to interrupt your meeting. I was sent to see if…"

The pool was right in front of us, windowed walls swung open showing off the view behind the pool. Apparently, a business meeting killed the vibe of a Sunday afternoon swim.

Edward stood and I followed suit, grabbing my bag and keeping ahold of my notebook.

"You can stay if you want," Masen told me, uncomfortable smirk on his lips.

I saw Edward roll his eyes then all cognizant thought vanished from my head as he put a hand on my waist and led me from the room.

"Sorry about him. He's a walking hormone these days," Edward sighed, leading me through the kitchen to an outdoor patio. It was on the other side of the house, completely out of eyesight of the pool. There were a few comfortable chairs set up, a small coffee table between them.

"Do you not have to, like, make sure someone doesn't drown?" I blurted out.

I got that laugh again. The full body one that made a surge of pride run through my veins whenever it happened because of me. "They're sixteen. As long as they're not swimming alone, it's fine."

"Oh." I sat down, opening my notebook back up to the right page in my lap.

"Not big on kids?"

"Um, no, not really," I blurted out before I realized how it could be taken as an insult. "I mean, yours seem fine. Great. Nice. Masen is a little… forward but – "

"It's okay, Isabella," Edward chuckled. My name on his lips made my cheeks burn and toes threaten to curl inside my heels. "Do you have any siblings?"

His question surprised me. This meeting wasn't about me. And I certainty wasn't discussing my family trauma with him. "No. But we should really get back to the separation. That's a ticking time bomb and – "

"I'll answer any questions you have about my separation if you tell me why you lied about not having siblings."

My mouth fell open and my eyes met his.

"You're not the only one who has done their research. Isabella Swan, twenty-two and daughter of Charlie and Renee Swan. Divorced but both remarried with multiple children."

"They're not my siblings," I grunted out defensively.

"You share a parent. They – "

"My parents got divorced when I was five. They didn't stay together to spare my feelings like you did for your kids. I was shipped from Florida to Washington whenever one of them got sick of me, or whenever someone had a new baby and didn't want to be bothered with me.

"Yeah, maybe technically I have siblings, but not in the way that matters," I snapped. His inner asshole was coming out and I didn't like the probing questions. I got in to public relations because I wanted to solve other people's problems and not think about mine.

Edward stared at me, running a hand along his chin. His eyes were a confusing mix of intrigue and pity and I hated it.

"When did you and your wife separate?" I asked, changing the subject and opening to a blank page in my notebook.

"Seven and a half years ago."

"Why?"

"She was fucking our neighbor."

_Oh._ "Name?"

"Demetri Hill."

"Where does your wife live?"

"Down the street. With Demetri Hill."

I frowned up at him, dropping my pen in my notebook. Four questions in and I was furious. Despite my first impressions, the man in front of me seemed unabashedly good and kind if not a little intrusive. Maybe a little lost, because his career was floundering, but why anyone would turn their back so harshly on him was beyond me.

I shook my head, clearing some of the anger, before picking my pen back up. "Did you ever have an affair prior to the separation?"

"No."

"Have you had any relationships since?"

"Relationships? No."

I rolled my eyes, hating that he was going to make me say it. I knew the answer. No one as gorgeous as him would be celibate for seven and a half years. "Have you slept with anyone since?"

"Yes."

"Names?"

"You want the names of every woman I've fucked in the last seven years?" he asked, his voice harsh and his eyes dark when I looked up at him.

"Yes, please."

I watched as Edward squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're not here to analyze my sex live, Ms. Swan," he snapped.

His frustration made me ten times more frustrated than I already was. He was going to be a lot more work than I thought, and he didn't seem to understand how deadly a secret failed marriage was in the hands of the wrong person.

"You've been lying to the public for seven years about the state of your marriage. Your show has been shit for two years and if you don't pull yourself together within about six months, they're going to replace you. You need to either give me an inch of cooperation and decide you want to try and save your show or call your mother and let me start my career off with someone who actually wants my help," I snapped dropping my notebook in my bag and standing up.

I managed to not get lost on my way to the front door and was in my car by the time he followed me. I saw him, standing in the doorway and watching after me as I drove away.

I hated crying. I spent about twelve years crying myself to sleep every night as I grew up. Once I was finally on my own I promised myself not to let other people make me cry anymore. Not to give anyone that kind of power over me.

On my drive home I barely suppressed the flow of tears that wanted to run down my cheeks.

**-B-**

When I stumbled in the house, Rosalie was curled on the couch in front of the television. Our place was small, house was probably a generous term for it, but it was in a nice neighborhood and not falling apart. Two bedrooms, two full baths, and a kitchen was more than enough for us.

"How'd it go?" Rose asked, leaning over the back of the couch to look at me.

I made an ice water, downing it quickly before plopping on the couch beside her. "I don't really know."

I didn't know what to make of Edward. Didn't know who he was, not anymore. One minute he embodied everything written about him; insensitive and run. The next, he was sweet and kind and made me think he was worth saving. The dichotomy made me wonder whether I was going to have a job tomorrow.

Rose was good at knowing when to push me to talk about something, and when to let the subject die. Right now, the last thing I wanted to talk about was this afternoon, and I was more than thankful when she dropped the subject.

"So, this guy came in to the gym today. And he was possibly the most attractive man I have ever seen," she started.

I curled up on the couch beside her, pulling a blanket over my lap. A story was just what I needed to get my mind off of today.

"What about Emmett?" I asked. He was a nice guy. I knew he only had a crush on her, but it would have hurt if he had to watch her flirting with this new guy right in front of him.

"Oh, I'm going out with Emmett next weekend. Big guy finally wore me down. And, I mean, you've seen the dimples."

"Okay, so what about this new guy, then?"

"This guy is _perfect_ for you, Bella. Perfect. He's a gym rat but not in a bad way. He's bulky but not as big as Emmett. And he's sweet. So sweet. He's been in a few times and I was hedging my bets, trying to figure him out. Then this guy walked past me and made some comment, I honestly didn't hear whatever it was, but Jacob must have and called him out on it because he came over and apologized later."

I sighed, suddenly no longer enjoying this particular distraction. "One comment and he's the sweetest guy ever?"

"Not just one comment. I could be totally wrong, but he seems like a genuine guy. And I really think you'd like him."

"Rose, I – "

"I invited him to dinner with you, Emmett, and I this Friday."

"Rose!"

"I'll sneak a picture of him next time he's at the gym. You won't be stuck with him alone, and I know you get along well with Emmett, too. It's just friends having dinner, that's all."

I sighed and fiddled with the blanket in my lap. It was very possible I was going to suddenly have a lot of free time after Edward called his mother and got me fired. And maybe it was a good way to get the butterflies to go away.

"Okay," I agreed, unable to keep from giggling with her when she pulled me in for a tight hug.

"Oh, yay! Okay, we need to go shopping sometime this week. Let me know when you can go, okay?" Rose asked, jumping up from the couch and grabbing her phone. I heard her say Emmett's name before she wandered off into her bedroom.

I went to my own bedroom, struggling with the zipper of my dress for a minute before I finally got it to fall to the floor at my feet. Once I was in a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, I made a list of all the public relations firms I could send my resume to in the morning.

**A/N: Your response to this story has exceeded my expectations. Thank you for the love on the first chapter, I hope you enjoyed this one just as much. Lots revealed here. Lots more to come. Thoughts?**

**PS: no one ever listen to me when I give timelines/lengths. *Probably* going to try to update 3 times a week (M/W/F) but might notch it back as we get farther in to it. Who knows? Not me! Hope you enjoyed!**


	3. Chapter 3

**BPOV**

I walked into the office on shaky legs. I had never been fired before. Didn't know what it was going to be like. The office building was beautiful and I was a little sad I hadn't spent more than a month working there. Windows were overlooking the city in every corner. I didn't have an office, but I had a small little cubicle to the far right of the room. There were post-its covering the walls, all with tidbits of Edward Cullen's life.

I shouldn't have snapped at him yesterday and I knew it. Yes, my questions were invasive but I needed a trail of everyone who know about his separation. I assumed he would understand how deadly that secret could be to us repairing his image and I was obviously wrong.

In my defense, I had been a full-time publicist for three days at that point. And I had about fifteen years of the mentality that no one cared what I thought or said was important. And Edward Cullen seemed to destroy the careful filter I had in place around most people.

A hand fell to my shoulder as I sat down and turned on my computer.

"How's the Cullen case going, Bella?" Mike Newton asked. He was the boss's son and made sure everyone knew it. He walked around like he was a God even though I had yet to see him do a moment of work.

"Interesting," I sighed, counting the seconds until his hand was off of my shoulder.

"Well, let me know if you need any help or want someone to bounce some ideas off of. We could have dinner or something," he said with a slimy smile

"I'll let you know," I answered softly, thankfully appeasing him enough to get him to wander off to find another distraction from work.

"Bella!"

My name was shouted from the corner office. Which just so happened to be Mike's father's office.

I sighed and walked over, feeling the same sense of doom I felt as I walked in to Edward's house yesterday. I knocked lightly on the doorframe, sticking my head in his office. "Yes, Mr. Newton?"

"These got delivered for you this morning," he said quickly, handing me a couple laminated cards. One was an all access pass to the theater where _The Tonight Show with Edward Cullen_ was filmed. The other was a visitor pass to his gated neighborhood.

I stared down at the cards with a frown.

"Don't feel like you need to come in every day, either. I want you constantly on Cullen, understand? Don't let him pull any shit."

"I, um, these got delivered this morning?" If it was this morning, it was after our spat yesterday. After I told him he was about to lose his job and that his show was horrible. After I said a lot of things I shouldn't have said.

"Yes. Are you already having issues with him?" Newton asked, frowning at me as he sat back down behind his desk.

"No!" I answered a little too loudly. "No, not yet. I do need to talk to him, though, so I should probably…" I held up the passes.

"Yes, of course. Remember, I want weekly updates on him starting Friday. Just an email will be fine."

"Friday. Yes," I nodded, taking the hint of him picking up his phone as my cue to leave.

Thankfully the theater where he filmed his show wasn't too far from my office. Even with the constant Los Angeles traffic it only took me about twenty minutes to get there. I parked a block down the street and hopped in the nearest Starbucks quickly.

My research was thorough and I knew he had been known to order a dreaded Frappuccino from time to time. _You can find the weirdest things about people on the internet._

I ordered the biggest caramel Frappuccino I could before walking the block down to the theater. One look at my pass and the door was opened for me everywhere I went. The only questions I was asked were if I needed directions getting somewhere. With a little help from a few random strangers I ended up standing outside of an office with _Edward Cullen _engraved in the door in gold.

I took a deep breath before knocking. His voice was harsh and grunted when he muttered, "Come in."

I opened the door slowly, attempting to put off my fate for a few more moments. They were coming, I knew they were. And the second I saw his messy copper hair and surprised emerald eyes my stomach was full of butterflies. Fluttering about all excited and confusing.

I hated them. And loved them. And was terrified of what they meant.

"Isabella," he greeted, standing from his spot behind a beautiful, intricate desk and motioning to the chair opposite of him.

I dropped my bag to the floor and pushed the drink across his desk toward him. "A peace offering," I said with a small smile, the only kind I could manage.

This man had sent my entire life into a tailspin and I had seen him two, now three times. My life used to be very ordinary. I went to school, I worked at the library, and I worked at my internship. All while getting my schoolwork done between it all. I had a life planned out for myself and now I was constantly convinced I was losing it all. Everything was always up and down and I couldn't say that I liked it.

But, the genuine smile on his face when he read the tag on his drink made all of those worries disappear.

"The internet is good for something, then, huh?" he asked with a chuckle, pulling the straw out of his drink and licking the whipped cream off of it.

The action, the fact that I saw his tongue peak out and wrap around the straw, it made the butterflies go into overdrive and my eyes glaze over a bit.

"Isabella?" he asked, breaking me out of my haze.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for the drink," he said with a small smile. A knowing smile that made me hope he couldn't tell that all I could think about was his tongue.

_Married. Children. Ten plus years older. _I repeated my mantra, but most of it was inconsequential now. His marriage was fake. Twelve years seemed like nothing to me now. He still had children, but what did that really matter? They were nearly grown.

It was all a useless argument, though. I didn't date and, even if I did, it wasn't like I could date _him_. Or that he would want to date me. Moot point.

I made a promise to myself to keep the butterflies at bay. To keep thoughts of tongues out of my mind. And to keep my focus on my job, where it needed to be.

"You didn't fire me," I blurted out in an attempt to change the subject of my thoughts.

"You thought I would?" he asked, genuine concern and confusion on his face.

"Yes. I made a list of other firms to apply to last night," I admitted. Why I told him I wasn't sure. Things just… came out around him.

He looked genuinely sad. Maybe for me, maybe for himself because he was stuck with me. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to lose your job. I'll request someone else if you'd like."

"No," I squeaked, embarrassingly quick. "No, you don't have to. Unless you want to."

He shook his head, sliding a piece of paper over toward me. I picked it up, frowning down at the list of names and accompanying phone numbers. Oh. _Oh._

"Thank you," I whispered, putting the list of women in my bag. For some reason the list of six names made me a little queasy.

"None of them will talk," he said quietly, his cheeks surprisingly a little red. "And there hasn't been anyone in a year or so. If that makes your job any easier."

"Okay," I nodded. I had one more question and I was pretty sure it was going to offend him. But it was kind of the key to me being able to do my job.

"I know this whole thing wasn't your idea. And I'm sorry for my… insensitive comments yesterday about your show. But, you do want this show, right?"

From the little I had gathered from our time together, I thought he did. Four days ago, I wouldn't have said so. But I needed to know if I was right. If there really was more to him than his seemingly bipolar attitudes at home and on his show.

"I used to love it," he admitted, his voice soft. "I loved writing the show, learning about all of the guests, making people forget their problems for an hour each night," he said with a small smile in my direction, throwing my own words back in my face.

"Then life just got in the way. People say that all the time, and I always thought it was an excuse. I mean, I managed better when the kids were small and needed more attention than I do now that they're grown and taking care of themselves. Lucy had a bad case of strep throat a few years ago and I had the writers go on without me for a few days so I could take care of her. It was one thing after another then, and I realized I became a product rather than a performer. I never felt like that because I was the one writing the material."

"So, why don't you get back to writing?" I asked quietly.

"Because it wasn't until my publicist made the blunt observation that my show has been shit that I realized why," he reasoned, a small smile in my direction. "I knew it wasn't great, I have meetings with very unpleasant people all the time telling me about numbers, but I got complacent."

"You didn't realize how much of an asshole you were?" I regretted the words as soon as I said them. "I mean – "

"I know what you mean. I'm not going to take all the blame for the bookers forcing me to talk to a girl who got famous posting cringy videos of herself online, though."

I smiled. "Fair enough. You'll try to be nicer, though? Because I can do damage control all you want but nothing is going to change if you don't."

"I know. I'll do my best, Ms. Swan."

My mind started spinning, thinking of all the ways I could attempt to salvage his name. "Thank you."

"Thank you," he repeated. "Most people in your position wouldn't have been so blunt."

"Most people in your position would have fired me on the spot," I admitted softly.

Edward shook his head. "You're passionate about what you do. That's a good thing, in my opinion."

My cheeks heated up, but I kept my focus on today. We needed baby steps in the right direction at the very least. "Your writers. Are they here?"

"They should be," he began, standing from his desk and motioning for me to do the same. I grabbed my bag and followed him out the door.

As we walked down the hall his hand was pressed gently against my back, making my butterflies entirely too happy. We stopped in front of a nondescript door and Edward opened it quickly.

The sudden burst of talking stopped immediately. About ten sets of eyes were on us. Most were men, there only seemed to be about three women in the group. They were all sitting around a long conference table, a few smaller desks littered about. There were crumpled up pieces of paper scattered about the table and a few empty donut boxes as well.

"This is Isabella Swan, my publicist. Make sure she gets a final monologue and schedule before they get to me. If she asks for anything to be removed, you remove it. Understood?"

Everyone was quiet for a minute before there were a few nods.

"Sure," one of the women mumbled.

Edward's hand dropped from my back and I was left standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Since when does Cullen have a publicist?" one of the men mumbled.

"Now we're being censored?" another grumbled, eyes on me.

"You're not being censored," I snapped. Part of Edward's problem was this group of people writing bad material for him. A large part of it was also his interviews and responses, but we would work on that.

"Last week, who wrote the bit about the girl who nearly died from an OD?" I asked, making sure my voice sounded as stern as possible. In a room full of mostly men I knew my point was likely to get lost if I didn't assert myself.

"I did," the same guy who said he was being censored said.

"Stuff like that is being censored. Good material is fine," I shrugged.

"That was a funny joke!" he argued.

"No, it was rude and insensitive. The girl could have died and you had him poking fun at her mental state," I snapped back. "I get that humor can have a bit of an edge, but that was crossing a line."

I got eyerolls all around. "Look, I get that you want to write whatever you want and don't want me approving your work. Just… don't make him look like an insensitive jerk and we won't have a problem. Late night television can be funny without being insensitive."

I left quickly, hoping I got my point across. Once the door was closed and I checked down each end of the hallway I pressed my back against the wall, letting my head fall against it.

A month ago, I was sitting in a classroom, taking my last college final. Two weeks ago, I walked into that pretty office I was in this morning ready to start my dream job. Now, I had my dream job and constantly felt like I was faking my way through every day.

I took a few deep breaths and looked around, making sure no one was watching. I smoothed my hand down my abdomen, straightening myself up. This morning as I got ready I was feeling a little melodramatic and dressed in all black, considering I thought I was about to be fired. My jeans were dark and the simple black camisole left my arms bare and probably too exposed for work. _At least you have a job._

The theater was huge and the back halls a maze. I was fairly certain I passed the same promotional poster of Edward about four times before I ended up at the stage. I had been looking for somewhere, anywhere, to sit and work for a few hours. The audience chairs seemed good enough.

There were people milling around, but it was still late morning. I didn't expect the place to really start bustling for a few hours. So, I took a seat in one of the chairs, plopping my tote beside me and pulled out my computer.

The moment my name and email got out as that of Edward Cullen's publicist, I had gotten no fewer than a hundred emails an hour. It was still a little mind boggling that he didn't have a publicist in the first place, but I was suddenly a little glad that he didn't. If he had, I wouldn't be here. And I didn't want to think about why I was suddenly so glad to be his publicist, because I wasn't sure if it was for the right reasons.

After going through a quarter of my emails, one popped up from a James Michaelson. Attached were various scripts that appeared to be for tonight's show. I read through the monologue and a couple of the other segments. All of the humor was mild. Most of the digs were at the President of the United States, but he was a bumbling idiot that deserved them. Attached was also a schedule of the show with the guests for the night. I cringed when I googled one of the names I didn't know and ended up on a YouTube channel.

While I was at it, I went ahead and simply googled Edward's name, too. Most of the results were things I had clicked on and analyzed the last few weeks. But, now that I knew more about him, the various titles frustrated me.

_Edward Cullen Under Fire After Joking About Lena Blake's Overdose._

_Tonight Show with Edward Cullen Takes Another Rating's Dip._

_Watch Edward Cullen Be Uninterested in YouTube Star Paul Avery For Seven Minutes. _

_What Happened to the Old Edward Cullen?_

He was still in there, I thought. The old Edward that loved his job and smiled when he was interviewing someone. The one who enjoyed silly games with guests and didn't seem so forced all the time. I had known him only four days but I was so sure he was still in there somewhere.

I also knew he had a tendency to snap. That grumpy, uninterested guy was in there too. I either had to figure out what it was that caused his appearance, or teach him how to hide him away until the cameras were off.

He said it was just life getting in the way. That he simply didn't enjoy being a puppet told what to say. But, how did I fix that?

"You're working… in the audience?"

Just hearing his voice woke up the sleeping butterflies in my stomach. I looked up to pretty green eyes and a bustling stage.

I quickly started packing up my things. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'll get out of the way – "

"No, it's okay, Isabella. Though, I wouldn't blame you for wanting a more comfortable place to work. You can work in my office, if you want."

"Oh, no, that's okay. I can just – "

"Please, I insist."

Edward closed my laptop and put it carefully in the tote beside me. Then my notebook was gone from beside me and my phone in his hand.

"I – "

"Come with me," he demanded, quickly turning with my tote in his hand and walking through a small crowd of people staring at him with wide eyes.

I got up and followed quickly and quietly. I did _not_ stare at his ass through his jeans as he walked in front of me. My cheeks warmed as he held his office door open for me.

"Mr. Cullen, you really don't have to do this," I mumbled, sitting in his comfortable chair as he held it out for me.

"You can call me Edward, Isabella," he said softly. "Better?"

His desk was, obviously, a hundred times more comfortable than the audience chair. My eyes scanned the desk quickly. There was a slew of pictures of him with his kids. None featured his estranged wife. "Yes, thank you. Edward."

Even saying his name made my butterflies flutter around. _That can't be a good sign._ He turned to leave and the butterflies got the best of me. "Most people just call me Bella."

He stopped and turned back toward me, the smallest smile on his lips. "Bella."

**-B-**

I was packing up my bag in Edward's dressing room when he walked in. He was done for the day, having just finished filming the show for tonight. Thankfully, he looked much less grumpy than the first time I saw him after filming last week.

"So, did I pass?" he asked, tossing his mic out the door at someone and turning to smirk at me.

_Butterflies. Butterflies everywhere._

"Yes," I sighed. "I could have done without the eyeroll after the poor boy said he liked your acting, but you did good."

"It was a playful eyeroll," he defended. "Besides, the kid had to be sucking up."

"That's true. It must be so disappointing for your mother than none of her children got an ounce of her talent."

Edward dramatically held a hand over his heart. "You wound me, Ms. Swan."

"My apologies, Mr. Cullen." I threw my bag over my shoulder and took a couple steps toward the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Bella."

Instantly I regretted telling him to call me Bella. Then his name slipped out of my mouth and it made everything seem right somehow. "Have a good night, Edward."

I drove home with the window down, hoping the fresh air would help clear my mind. Everything was confusing and complicated and I suddenly longed for the simple nights staying up late to cram for a calculus test.

It wasn't until I got home that I let myself pull out the list of names Edward had given me that morning. There were six names. Six women in seven years was hardly scandalous, especially if his marriage was a good as dead. Problem was, on paper it was still very much alive. It was only a matter of time until someone leaked it, and that was going to be an even bigger headache for me.

Even as hard as I tried to convince myself that was my only problem with the list, I knew that wasn't it at all. It was obvious I had a crush on him. There was no use in denying it after the constant recurrence of my butterflies.

In light of that crush, looking up women he had slept with in the past didn't sound like that fun of a night, but I knew it needed to be done. I had a company lawyer in the process of writing up a few non-disclosure agreements for a few different situations, one being for the women he had been with. But, I still needed, maybe wanted, to know more about them.

I supposed the positive note was there was nothing like looking at the pictures of beautiful blondes and literal supermodels that he had been with in the past to convince me my crush was nothing short of preposterous.

**A/N: We're taking baby steps with this one. Hope you guys are enjoying the ride, let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget, you can find me on twitter under _fragilefanfic_ for updates. **


	4. Chapter 4

**BPOV**

For the last four days I had come in to a routine. Possibly the strangest routine I'd had in my life, but it was a routine nonetheless. I would get to the theater around nine every morning. Usually carrying some kind of Starbucks treat that I knew Edward liked even though he told me every day I didn't need to bring him anything.

The day after my first at the theater Edward showed me to a smaller office I could call mine whenever I needed it. It had a desk and a chair and that was all I really needed. I spent most mornings responding to hundreds of odd requests for Edward to comment on this or appear on some obscure British game show. The range of requests was as odd as it was comical.

By two I typically had a few scripts to approve. I had a feeling the writers were going easy on me for now. Things had been mild so far but they were drastically different from what they used to write for him. I knew it was only a matter of time before they tried to sneak something in to test if I was actually going to cut it or not.

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, I didn't see Edward much. I saw him in the hallways sometimes and I watched him filming every afternoon. Every night as he walked out I would draw a smile over my face with my fingers, attempting to get him to lose the slight scowl. It always earned me a soft smile, so it seemed worth it.

Fixing his image was going to take more than a new attitude and material. It had been too long that people associated him as being rude and unapproachable. I needed to take things slow, though. Not only for the sake of the public but for him, too.

He was trying, I could tell. He gave me a soft smile every night and I could practically see him resist the urge to roll his eyes throughout the show. Still, we were going to need more if he wasn't going to slip back to being uninterested in all of this again.

I had ideas, but I knew he would hate them all. He didn't seem the type to want to make an Instagram account or even do an interview if he wasn't the one asking the questions.

I was also still in the process of doing damage control. And learning every possible way his life could blow up in my face. You would have thought two weeks of absorbing every ounce of information about him would be enough, but I was still learning new things every day.

Still, my biggest hurdle was his marriage. Which was how I ended up closing out my Thursday night standing outside Demetri Hill's home. They were supposed to know I was coming, but they didn't necessarily know why.

I knocked before I lost my courage. Demetri Hill answered. He was a finance guy, I got bored reading his actual job title. Well off and attractive enough I supposed. He had dark hair with too much product in it and cold blue eyes. He was bulky, kind of like Emmett, but his posture left me much more intimidated than I had ever been around Emmett.

Seeing him in person left me even more confused about how anyone in their right mind would chose him over Edward.

"Hello," I said softly. "I'm Isabella Swan, Edward's publicist. May I come in?"

"Of course. Come in. Irina will be down in a moment."

I nodded, walking in and looking around quickly. It was a beautiful place, of course, but knowing who lived here tainted the beauty a bit. Demetri led me through the house, stopping at a long dining table. Just as we got there, Irina sauntered in.

She was beautiful and it made my butterflies, the ones I had spent the last four days trying to brutally murder, seem even more idiotic. Her hair fell in waves down her shoulders, strawberry blonde and perfectly highlighted. Her eyes were crystal blue and her face somehow glowing even in the dim lighting.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me," I started, pulling out the two files from my bag. "This shouldn't take too long. I just need you two to sign these."

I stood across the table from them, pushing the folders toward them. "You're welcome to have a lawyer look them over if you'd like. They're fairly straightforward non-disclosure agreements. It just says that if you leak any information about Ms. Denali's marriage, or lack thereof, to Mr. Cullen you will personally be liable for about $2.5 Million dollars in damages."

Demetri's cold eyes flashed in my direction. "That seems a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"No, I don't," I answered, pulling out two pens and sliding them across the table as well. "I should also note that it is you, personally, responsible for the damages. Especially in your case, Ms. Denali. Your shared accounts with Mr. Cullen will be void if used to pay."

To her credit, Irina looked a little hurt. "I've never done anything to hurt him."

"I would beg to differ, considering you fucked your neighbor while you were still married to him."

The whole situation was confusing to me. Why was Edward fine with still being married to her while she lived her happily ever after out with Demetri? I admired them for staying together for their children, for not wanting them to read about their parents lives in magazines, but they could handle it now. And watching these two together made me angrier than I had been in a long time.

"He's the one fucking around, now," Demetri grumbled, picking up the pen and signing the form.

I rolled my eyes, keeping my mouth shut and pulling the papers back towards me. I wanted out of here as soon as possible, and I had what I needed now. I pulled out two cards from my bag. "If anyone calls you asking about Mr. Cullen, I'd appreciate a heads up. Thank you for your time."

Irina followed me to the door, but I ignored her presence. Especially when she whispered, "He doesn't go for brunettes," to me as I walked past her.

I ignored her, not even flinching when the door slammed shut behind me. Once in the safety of my car, movement from an upstairs window caught my eye. I could barely make out Lucy and Masen looking down at me.

**-B-**

I scrolled through the Instagram feed of Edward's new page. He didn't know about it yet, and I wasn't planning on telling him about it any time soon. He'd hate it and get all grumpy. It was purely promotional at this point anyway. It wasn't like I was pretending to be him. Not really.

I smiled at the gradually increasing number of followers and slid my phone in the back pocket of my jeans. Coffee in hand, I opened Edward's office door to drop it off, nearly dropping the cup on the ground when I saw the head of blonde hair sitting opposite of him.

The frown I got from him rivaled that of the one I got when I first met him.

"You made Irina and Demetri sign NDAs?" he grunted out, perhaps the most angry I had ever seen him.

"I didn't _make_ them sign anything," I shrugged. It wasn't like I held a gun to their heads or anything.

"Isabella – " he snapped, running a hand angrily through his hair. "I don't want a life run by NDAs and contracts and. I told you I would cooperate, but this is crossing a fucking line."

He cursed when he was angry. I had noticed he tended to keep it to a minimum on a regular basis, maybe it made it easier to make sure nothing slipped out when he was filming. Even so, I decided I didn't really appreciate it when it was directed at me.

"Well, all due respect Mr. Cullen, if that was the case then you got in the wrong business. Do you know how many people would kill for your job? How fast they would exploit your marriage situation to benefit them?"

They were both quiet, though I didn't have my eyes on Irina. They were on Edward's softening expression. "I understand, technically, she's your wife. But she's also living down the street with another man. She's not my client. I don't care about her or her feelings or her reputation."

It was harsh, but true. Especially after last night and her little brunette comment. "I've tried to take things slow, because I know you're trying. But this," I waved my arms between the two of them. "Is going to blow up in your face eventually. I'm just trying to do my fucking job and put that off for as long as possible," I snapped, throwing his own cursing back in his face.

"You are more than welcome to go to Newton and request someone else, but any publicist in their right mind would be handing out NDAs left and right in this situation."

I left as quickly as I came, tossing the full cup of coffee in the trash can right outside his office. My petty side hoped he heard it. Once I was in my own little office I had the simultaneous urge to scream and punch something.

My career choice was frustrating, dealing with people and emotions and the public would always be frustrating. But, I was fairly certain Edward was making it doubly so. He was always so hot and cold. Half the time he admitted he needed help and tried to fix what he could on his part, and the next he was yelling about NDAs or lists of women. In three days, it would probably be the Instagram page.

I had only been working with him a week and I was already exhausted. Physically and emotionally spent. He was frustrating and stubborn and beautiful and still made my stomach fill with damn butterflies every time I saw him.

I gave myself three minutes to stew in my own anger before I pulled my computer out of my bag. Right when I was opening it up, three soft knocks sounded at the door.

"Come in," I mumbled, wondering for about the tenth time this week if I was going to get fired.

I had no chair opposite of me for him to sit. The office was tiny, only big enough for a simple wooden desk and chair in front of the window behind me. With the lack of space, Edward leaned against the door jam.

Of course, seeing him standing there, casually crossing his arms across his chest, made my butterflies come to life. My attempts to murder them over the past four days had been worthless so far.

"I'm sorry," he declared, his voice surprisingly firm and ringing with affirmation.

"You don't have to apologize," I mumbled, dropping my eyes back to my computer. I wasn't technically his employee, considering his mother was the one that hired me, but he was still kind of my boss. Except he never told me what to do and I constantly did things I knew he would hate. It was an odd dynamic.

"Regardless of what I'm sure you've learned about me online, I don't try to be an asshole."

"I know," I agreed. It was nice to know that everything I read about him online had been untrue. It made my job a hundred times harder, but it was a relief to know I wasn't defending the jerk I once thought him to be.

He was still a jerk sometimes, and constantly made me want to rip my hair out, but he was working on it. I thought.

"I never wanted my life to be so… calculated and scrutinized. That's why I avoided publicists once I started the show."

His honesty about his life and career always surprised me. From his admission that he lost himself in the show when he stopped writing to this, he was never what I expected him to be.

"It's a great sentiment, but not very logical these days. Everyone is trying to tear everyone else down to get ahead, especially in this town," I shrugged. I grabbed the folder containing Irina and Demetri's agreements out of my bag. "You can tear them up, if you trust them."

I had absolutely no trust in them. It didn't matter that they'd had this agreement or arrangement for seven years. It only took the right amount of money to make someone talk.

Edward walked over and picked the file up off of my desk, eyes scanning the agreement. I bit my tongue, thinking he was going to tear them up right in front of me.

"$2.5 Million?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "And no joint account. You're very thorough."

"Well, a lawyer wrote it. I did make sure the account stipulation was in there. I can write a great press release, though," I said with a smile.

Edward dropped the folder back on my desk. "Keep them. I trust your judgement."

His words sent a shot of pride through me. Then I remembered the handful of other things that I hadn't told him about. Most of which would give him the same impression that I was making his life calculated and scrutinized.

"In the interest of full transparency… maybe we should have a weekly meeting. Where I can tell you about NDAs and things so we don't have a repeat of this morning."

Edward nodded with a smirk that made my butterflies very, very happy. "Does tonight work for you?"

Tonight. Friday. The night Rose made me promise to keep clear for my date-but-not-really-a-date with Jacob.

"Oh, I can't tonight. I have a, uh, a date," I mumbled. I had to have been imagining it, the way his entire body suddenly tensed at the word date. How his eyes lost the playful glimmer they had and his jaw set.

"Of course. It's Friday, you're young and have plans," he said, his voice confusingly… gloomy. "How does Sunday work. Same time as last week?"

I nodded. "I'll be there."

He left without another word and I was just as confused about him as I was before he walked in.

It was a big adjustment, I supposed. He'd been hosting the show for seven years, had a small acting career before that. And he supposedly hated the typical Hollywood lifestyle of creating an image for the public to love. Then I came along and turned that all upside down.

With the pressure from Newton and Cheney I had to constantly fight against the mindset of starting hard and fast with Edward. I didn't think I was taking things too fast, but maybe I still was. I needed to take smaller steps. Ease up on the NDAs.

**-B-**

I changed in the bathroom after running out to my car to get the dress I had stashed in the back. Rose and I had gone shopping a few nights ago and I had settled on the tamest of the options she chose for me.

It was a simple black dress with an asymmetrical neckline, leading up to a thin strap across one shoulder. There was a slit up my thigh that I didn't love so much, but it wasn't as high up as a few of my other options. I had even thought ahead and worn a pair of black heels that would go with the dress and stuffed a smaller clutch in my tote for the night.

I fastened a bracelet on my wrist as I walked down the hall. The show had just finished taping and I knew I was going to be stuck in the retreating traffic. My mind was on bumper to bumper traffic and the frustrating clasp that I couldn't fasten when I bumped into a solid chest.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I gasped, looking up in to shining green eyes.

Edward's hands were wrapped firmly around my biceps, steadying me and making my entire body feel like it was fluttering away with my butterflies. He cleared his throat and quickly dropped his hands once he was sure I wasn't about to topple over.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

"Um, yes. Thank you. Sorry," I stuttered, dropping the annoying bracelet in my bag and quickly stepping out of his way.

"Have a good night, Bella," he murmured, suddenly sounding an odd mix of sad and angry.

"You too, Edward," I mumbled, scurrying down the hall and away from the feeling of his eyes on me as I left.

I was late to the restaurant and spent the hour stuck in traffic trying to come up with an excuse to not show up. I should have agreed to meeting with Edward tonight, but I thought small doses might help me kill my butterflies. They had already spent a while today fluttering around because of him.

Dating really had never interested me. I had thought about it a time or two, wondered what it would be like to have someone I could call my boyfriend. Someone to kiss and hold my hand and do things I had never done before with. It was all uncharted territory, though, and it terrified me.

Of course, it would remain uncharted territory until I did it, but that didn't make biting the bullet any easier. It also didn't help that my conversing skills were atrocious.

That thought made Edward float through my mind again, because I seemed to be able to blurt out the stupidest things around him. I had to shake that thought out of my head as I walked into the surprisingly calm restaurant.

It was a quaint little place, candles on every table and soft music playing in the background. Even with my inexperience in dating I knew it wasn't the kind of place you went to for a double date. This was definitely solo, romantic date kind of material.

Rosalie stood from a table in the back and waved me over. I let out a deep breath before I got to her and the two men sitting with her.

I knew Emmett well. He seemed to get that I wasn't big on chatting whenever I was at the gym, or in general, which I appreciated. He would ask me how I was, check on me every once in a while, and that was it.

This Jacob guy, Jacob Black, I had never seen before. He stood as I approached the table and I had to argue with Rose's claim that he wasn't as bulky as Emmett. He had a nice smile, I supposed. Cropped dark hair and dark eyes like mine. His skin looked naturally tan, a stark contrast to the obvious fake tans that roamed the streets around here.

I thought, maybe hoped, that my butterflies would wake up when I met him. I was very aware that they were dangerous around Edward, that the situation would only get worse if they kept flying around.

There was nothing, though. Not even a wing twitching in my stomach when he smiled at me.

"Hi," Jacob greeted me, smiling and shaking my hand with a firm grip.

Still, no butterflies.

"Hello," I replied, already out of things to say. I sat in my chair quickly, beside Rose and across from Jacob. I nervously smoothed my hands down my lap, wishing I was anywhere but here.

"Sorry I'm a little late," I added, proud of myself for having something else to say. _How pathetic could I be?_

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Emmett wink at me. He was one of the only men I knew who could wink and not look creepy. Him, and…

"No worries," Jacob answered with a smile. "So, Rose said you work in public relations?"

"Yes, I do."

_Awkward. Awkward. Oh, so awkward._

"Any interesting clients?"

"I just have one, for now. It's, um, Edward Cullen."

As if on cue, just the mention of his name made my butterflies happily float around my stomach. Traitorous little buggers.

"No shit. The Tonight Show with Edward Cullen, Edward Cullen?"

"Yes, that's the one." _I also happen to have a completely inappropriate crush on him and no feelings toward you whatsoever_, I added in my head. Thankfully my filter was much more tight around anyone that wasn't the aforementioned Tonight Show host.

"Wow. Is he as big of an asshole in person as he seems to be on TV?"

I inwardly flinched at his accusation. Not because it meant my work wasn't showing any result to people like Jacob. But, because for some reason, hearing someone else express their negative feelings about him hurt. Something I wasn't sure every publicist felt for their clients.

"He's not as bad as you may think," I answered, even though I wasn't sure what I thought about him anymore. He was sweet one second and then walked out of my office without another word the next. The constant back and forth, the never-ending tally in my mind of whether he was good or bad, it was all getting exhausting.

"Really?" Jacob asked, surprised.

"I can't really talk about him," I shrugged. It was the truth, but I also needed my distance from him. The only reason I agreed to this date in the first place was to distract myself from him, and it wasn't doing a great job so far.

"Yeah, I bet he's got you on a pretty strict NDA," Jacob joked, taking a swig of the beer bottle in front of him.

My snort was involuntary and embarrassing. The idea of Edward requesting a NDA from me, especially after this morning, was laughable. I had already signed one with Newton & Cheney, but I doubted he knew that.

I shook my head; frustrated Edward was still floating through my thoughts. "My PR firm does," I sighed. "So, what do you do?"

By the end of the night I knew more about Jacob Black than I ever really wanted to. He was one of those people that could talk and talk and only need the barest of acknowledgements that you were actually paying attention to them. It was probably why Rosalie thought he would be good for me.

He was a realtor. Quite the profitable profession when you lived in the land of $50 million-dollar mansions. He was from the middle-of-nowhere Minnesota and asked polite questions about my middle-of-nowhere childhood in Washington which I dodged by asking about his sisters.

He was a nice guy. He did seem sweet and genuine, like Rosalie said. But, I felt nothing for him. I didn't know how these things worked, but I was fairly certain I should feel even the smallest bit of interest in him by this point.

Once we were done with dinner he walked me to my car, inconveniently parked in the opposite direction of Emmett and Rosalie. I fiddled with my keys and hated the way his hand felt on my back.

"I had a good time tonight," Jacob said, smiling down at me when I turned to face him.

"Me, too," I lied, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

I regretted the words immediately because they seemed to give him the green light to swoop down and press his lips to mine. I gasped, shocked, but he took it to be a more positive reaction than it really was.

I pulled back quickly, pressing my lips together and pushing on his chest to give us a little distance. "I'm sorry. I just – I'm not – dating isn't really, um – "

"Shit, it's okay. I'm sorry. I thought… it's okay," Jacob stuttered, a slight flush to his cheeks now.

"Sorry," I repeated.

"It's fine, Bella. Really. I'll see you around, okay?"

"Okay," I nodded, knowing full well I wouldn't see him around. Hoping I wouldn't. I got in the car, waving awkwardly at him as I drove off.

Once I got home I locked myself in my bedroom, not having the energy to talk to Rose when, if, she came home tonight. I showered quickly and pulled on an oversized t-shirt and fell into bed.

I hated my awkwardness and inability to hold a conversation. Hated not being able to suck it up and try to enjoy a date with a nice guy. And I really, _really_, hated waking up in the middle of the night, moaning Edward's name.

**A/N: Hope you're enjoying these two. We should be on track for M/W/F updates next week, too! See you then!**

**Thoughts? Guesses?**

**Twitter: **_**fragilefanfic**_


	5. Chapter 5

**BPOV**

_"Oh, I'm so sorry," I gasped, looking up into shining green eyes. _

_ Edward's hands were wrapped firmly around my biceps, steadying me and making my entire body feel like it was fluttering away with my butterflies. He cleared his throat and quickly dropped his hands once he was sure I wasn't about to topple over. _

_ "You okay?" he asked quietly. _

_ "Um, yes. Thank you. Sorry," I stuttered, dropping the annoying bracelet in my bag and trying to quickly step out of his way. _

_ He didn't let me. He kept a firm grip on my arms and maneuvered us both into his dressing room a few feet down the hall. The door slammed shut behind us and his lips were on mine. Soft and hard at the same time and making my butterflies twirl in a vortex in my stomach. _

_ Firm hands roamed around my back and down my waist. He pulled me flush against him, lips still tangled with mine, and stumbled backwards until he fell to the couch. _

_ I had no time to think before he pulled me into his lap, my legs on either side of his. I pressed my lips back to his and groaned as his tongue slid across my bottom lip. _

_ His hands started sliding up my thighs, tightening around them before pulling me against his very prominent arousal and making me groan out his name. _

My dream from Friday night was still twirling around in my head. I hated it and loved it and hated it again. It did nothing but prove that my crush on him wasn't fading away like I wanted it to. And it made me wish I wasn't supposed to be at his house in five hours.

"You okay, Bella?" Emmett asked, rounding the corner as I shut off the treadmill.

"I'm fine," I panted, resting my arm on the console and staring out the window. It was tinted glass so gym members could see outside but passersby couldn't see in, which I appreciated.

"Don't sweat the whole Jacob thing," Emmett said quietly. It was eight in the morning on a Sunday but the gym wasn't too crowded. It wasn't really the type of gym that catered to early risers. It was the kind of gym you went to because you wanted to tell your friends you did. It was expensive and high tech and would be completely out of my price range if Rose and Emmett weren't letting me in for free. "You're too good for him anyways."

"Thanks, Emmett," I sighed, grabbing my keys and water bottle. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Truth was, I hadn't thought about Jacob since Friday night. I had spent a good twenty-four hours thinking of the dream I had about my boss, though I couldn't very well tell that to Emmett.

I got home and showered before Rose even woke up. We hadn't talked about Friday night yet, but I knew it was coming when she was sitting on my bed when I came out of my bathroom.

"So?" she asked, eyes wide and excited.

"So?"

She sighed, curling her legs up underneath her and turning to watch me rummage through my closet. "What did you think of Jacob?"

"He was… nice."

"Nice?"

I frowned to myself. "He kissed me."

Rose gasped from behind me. "Was it good?"

"I pushed him away."

"Bella," Rosalie grumbled.

I pulled out a white pencil skirt with a thin black checkered pattern and a nice black V-neck t-shirt. I clutched the clothes to my stomach and attempted to bypass Rose.

She grabbed my hand gently. "I'm sorry if I pushed and you weren't ready. I really did think you'd like him."

"I know. It's not that I didn't like him. I don't know. Everything is confusing lately and I don't know what's going on half the time and I – "

"It's okay, Bella. You're stressed and starting a new job. Probably not the best time to add new boyfriend to the mix, either," she sighed.

I flopped down on the bed, keeping my towel wrapped firmly around me. I couldn't tell her that half of my problem was the butterflies that constantly fluttered around whenever Edward was nearby, but I was glad she understood part of my problem at least.

The entire situation would pass eventually. Crushes went away. Edward was completely unattainable, and I knew it. The butterflies just constantly flustered my mind and filled it with dirty dreams.

If I was looking on the bright side, the whole night wasn't a waste. It was my first date and I didn't make a complete idiot out of myself. Even though my mind was off in the wrong direction, maybe the whole thing would be a step in the right direction eventually.

"I survived, so I guess that's something, right?" I smiled softly.

"Yes, it's something. I have a pair of heels that would look perfect with that outfit, by the way" she added, gracefully changing the subject.

**-B-**

Getting into Edward's neighborhood was a lot easier with the visitor's pass I got at the beginning of the week. It hung on my rearview mirror and I barely had to stop at the gate. Of course, part of me wished for the delay at the gate when I drove up his driveway and saw a slew of other cars parked there.

I frowned at the clock in my car that read five to one and got out slowly. It only took a second after I rang the doorbell for the door to swing open.

"You must be Isabella! Come in!" Alice Cullen greeted me, ushering me inside quickly.

The house was loud, a drastic difference from the last time I was here. Happy chatter floated from the living room where Alice was quickly leading me.

The entire Cullen clan was gathered around the open area, the large glass doors to the pool open and letting a nice breeze in. I recognized them all, every one of them came up during my time researching Edward.

Alice skipped over to the couch her fiancé, Jasper Whitlock, was sitting on. Alice was a personal stylist and worked with some of the biggest names in entertainment, while Jasper was an orthopedic surgeon. An unlikely couple, but they met years ago when Alice broke her arm and Jasper was still an intern at the UCLA hospital.

On the opposite side of the sectional Alice and Jasper were sitting on was Esme and Carlisle Cullen. I straightened immediately seeing her, considering _she_ was technically my boss. Or my bosses boss because she probably had more power than Newton or Cheney in this case.

I was grateful Irina seemed to be missing. I still wasn't sure about their dynamic. They were friendly, obviously, considering she was comfortable enough to try and out me and my NDAs to him. But did she ever come over on the weekends with her kids? Did Edward ever go there?

A splash caught my attention and I saw a girl, who I guessed was Lucy, get covered in water after Masen jumped in the pool.

"Lovely to finally meet you, Isabella," Esme said kindly, standing from her spot and walking over with an outstretched hand. She was in a simple black maxi-dress, caramel hair tossed over her shoulder.

Her husband followed, reaching for my hand next. "You seem to have done wonderful work with Edward so far, Ms. Swan," he said with a smile. "I don't think I've seen him roll his eyes in three days on the show."

"Oh, he has," I said before I could think better of it. "I keep count."

For some reason, that got everyone in the room laughing.

"I think you'll fit in quite well here, Isabella." Esme said with a chuckle. "Please, have a seat."

I would have hesitated if it was anyone other than Esme Cullen telling me to sit down. "Just Bella is fine," I said quietly. It felt like I was on display with four sets of eyes on me.

"Edward isn't being too stubborn for you, is he?" Esme asked, taking her seat again and looking at me with worried, motherly eyes.

"I'm not stubborn," Edward's voice came from beside me. He was in an outfit similar to the one he was in last time I was here. His t-shirt was a forest green that made his eyes look even brighter than usual, and his jeans casual. He sat in a chair beside me and, of course, my butterflies appreciated it.

"You are, actually," I blurted out. "But you've been more amenable than I thought you would be, so it's fine."

Again, there were chuckles throughout the group.

"And you got him on Instagram within a week," Lucy added, walking over from her sunbathing chaise to sit next to her grandparents. She gave me a soft smile which I returned. She was beautiful, long blonde hair that was the exact same shade as her mother's. She had Edward's eyes, though. Both of the kids did, which I liked.

Her mention of the Instagram account made me wince, though. I didn't dare look over at Edward.

"My brother with a social media presence? Scandalous," Alice chuckled.

It was easy to feel his eyes on me, and in a room full of so many people I knew they were all waiting for a reaction as well.

"In my defense," I sighed, turning to look at him. "It is one of the things I was going to talk to you about today."

Edward sighed and stood. "Shall we, then?"

"Oh, um, sure," I agreed, feeling somewhat awkward leaving his entire family behind.

"Don't worry about them. They came over unannounced. You're supposed to be here. There's a patio upstairs where we can talk," he told me, leading me upstairs with an arm on my back.

_Butterflies. Butterflies. Butterflies._

I had never been upstairs. It was lovely, of course. It seemed to be mostly bedrooms, Edward's taking up a majority of the floor. Because my body seemed to love betraying me, my cheeks heated up as he walked me through his bedroom to a large outdoor patio. My eyes zeroed in on the large bed; extravagant white padded headboard and pristine looking matching bedding.

I collected myself, and my thoughts, by the time he sat us down outside. It was a beautiful day, and the view even more beautiful from up here than on the main floor. I set my tote down beside me and pulled out my coveted Edward notebook. I had been working on him for three weeks and it was already nearly full.

"I really was going to tell you about the Instagram page today," I admitted. I didn't like grumpy Edward so much, and I was hoping to have this meeting without him around.

"I believe you," he sighed. "May I see it?"

My eyes snapped up to his, surprised that he wasn't immediately against it. "Oh, sure," I mumbled, grabbing my phone out of my bag and pulling it up. The tips of his fingers touched mine as I handed him the phone, exciting my already fluttering butterflies.

As he scrolled I started talking, attempting to soften the blow. "It really is kind of necessary these days. You need at least the smallest online presence. Instagram seemed like the lesser of the evils. Twitter is kind of a hell hole and Facebook is dying. You do have an old Twitter account though, from your acting days. Good news is you don't have any racist or homophobic or derogatory statements on there. So, another check in the basic human decency category for you. I – "

"Bella," Edward interrupted with a laugh. "You don't have to defend everything you do. You're obviously better at this kind of thing than me."

I frowned at him. He had made it pretty clear I _did_ have to defend most of my decisions. "What about the NDAs?"

"Irina came in pissed, which pissed me off. And I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

"Oh," I sighed. So he wasn't trying to defend her? "Well, you should probably still know that I, um, sent an NDA to all of the six."

Nothing to stun the butterflies in to submission like remembering the six drop dead gorgeous women he had been with in the last few years.

"Six?" Edward asked, frowning at me.

"The six, uh, women. From your list."

"Ah. Understandable," he muttered, handing my phone back to me.

"Everything I've done so far has been kind of… damage control. I know you don't want a life open to public scrutiny, but you're going to have to be a little more open so they see _you_ and not the guy you've been showing them the last few years."

"And I'm sure in that notebook of yours you've got a plan for that."

I relaxed into the chair. This was the kind of conversation I was comfortable with. It was easy to talk to him about why he needed to expand his online presence, and it was comforting to see him lean in every once in a while and nod because he was paying attention.

When I was done with that portion of my spiel, he handed me his phone with a newly installed Instagram app. I smiled and quickly logged him in.

"Don't go crazy with it, though," I warned. Not that I saw him doing anything with it, really. But it needed to be said.

"I'll try to control myself," he laughed.

"I also…" I started, unsure what his reaction was going to be to my other admission. "Nothing is confirmed, yet. Not until you agree you want to do it. But, I talked to Garrett."

"Garrett, my agent?"

"Yes. Anyway, as long as you're interested, we can get you booked to host Saturday Night Live in three weeks. The season finale. And they want you to help write the episode."

His eyebrows shot up. Hopefully in a good way.

"They don't let hosts write."

I shrugged. "You're not a regular host."

When he told me a few days ago he lost his passion for writing his own show when he got too busy, I tried to think of a way to help him get that back. I couldn't force him to make time to write his show. But, I could give him some kind of inspiration to get back in to it. I thought getting him in a writer's room, with fresh faces and ideas might help.

It also helped that it was excellent exposure for his new and improved personality.

"You'd have to be in New York for at least a week, maybe closer to a week and a half. I know you do periodic breaks from your show – "

"Book it," Edward interrupted, eyes shining and… happy.

My butterflies took that happiness to be directed at them, even though I knew better.

"Okay," I smiled. "Good. I think that's all I have for now, then."

I started packing up my things, smiling a bit to myself because things were going much more smoothly than I first imagined. Yes, my butterflies were distracting sometimes but I now had a genuine urge to help Edward. Not because I had dreams about him or because he was the most handsome man I had ever seen.

He was good at his job, and he just got lost. Life got in his way and that was something pretty much everyone in the world could understand. Everyone got distracted and grumpy and hated going to work in the morning sometimes. His bad days just always ended with filming a television show.

I wanted to get him back on his feet because he deserved it. He was good to his employees. I talked to basically everyone in the building the last week and no one had a single bad thing to say about him. He put his children above his own happiness, watching his wife live with another man so they didn't have to hear stories about them in the news. He was good and kind and deserved to be known for it.

Standing from my seat, I looked up and saw Edward staring at me. His eyes were unreadable, but didn't leave me. Even when I caught him staring.

"What?" I asked, suddenly terrified I had lipstick on my teeth or a stain on my clothes.

Edward cleared his throat and stood quickly. "Nothing. Here, let me carry your bag."

He took it from me before I could protest.

"Jesus, what do you have in here?"

"Everything I would need in case of an emergency," I shrugged, glad to be free from his distracting hand on my waist as we walked out of his room and down the stairs.

"Like an axe?" he joked.

I rolled my eyes. "Not that kind of emergency. It's just my laptop, chargers, backup chargers, phones…"

"Oh, good, you're done! Bella, you're joining us for the bar-b-que, right?" Alice asked, skipping around the corner to us.

"No, I don't want to intrude on your family time," I answered quickly. I was surprised they were all still here. I checked my phone quickly, surprised it was already nearing five. We had been talking a lot longer than I realized. "I have some work to do, too."

"Well, your work is Edward and he's going to be outside at the grill," Alice shrugged, snatching my bag from Edward's hand and skittering off.

"Hey," I snapped at Edward, though my voice was embarrassingly high-pitched. "I leave you in charge of my bag for two minutes and you let it get stolen?"

Edward shrugged, attempting to look as innocent as possible. "I'm impressed she could carry it. What with the laptops and chargers and backup chargers."

"You're going to be thankful for the backup charger one day," I countered.

"Oh, I have no doubt. You should stay, though. It's just dinner, then I'm sure Alice will give you your bag back." He had the nerve to wink at me as he walked away. The butterflies in my stomach really gave me no choice but to stay.

**-B-**

Dinner with Edward and his family was possibly the farthest I had ever been out of my comfort zone. I didn't do big families or parties or anything. My entire life since I was eighteen consisted of school and work. And Rose. I didn't have funny stories to tell or witty anecdotes to add in.

My formative years left me with the mindset that my opinions, my needs, and my input were unimportant. Hell, even my safety. Nothing about me was of consequence to anyone and it took me a good year of Rosalie pestering me for information to realize that she might like me at all.

So, witnessing a family gathering where Esme was completely engrossed in the story Lucy was telling her about her friends at school, where Jasper and Masen discussed the merits of what I could only guess was maybe a car engine, and where Carlisle tried to convince Alice to let _him_ choose her wardrobe for a week was more than a little mind boggling.

I sat awkwardly at the counter beside Edward as he grilled a plate full of meat from burgers to brats to hotdogs. There was a small little outdoor kitchen off to the side of his backyard, grill included.

I swirled my straw around the soda that had been put in front of me and kept my eyes on the beautiful landscape in front of me. That was, until that view was interrupted by Edward leaning across the counter in front of me.

"I'll make you a deal," he said, intertwining his fingers and resting his head on his hands.

His eyes were bright, his cheeks a little flushed from the heat of the grill, and his hair its usual mess. Looking at him made me want things. Some things I didn't even know what they were, but I wanted them.

"A deal?"

"If you answer three questions, I'll take a picture of myself grilling and use whatever cheesy caption you want and put it on Instagram."

My mouth fell open. "You'll take a _selfie_?"

A look of pure disgust crossed his face, making me giggle. "Christ, don't put it like that. But, yes. If you answer three questions."

It was quite the intriguing offer. "Three questions about what?"

"Yourself."

"Oh." That was a deal breaker. "You didn't learn enough about me during your research?"

Edward smiled at me, making my butterflies ecstatic. "I only got the basics. I like details."

"Um." I took a sip of my soda for a distraction. The last thing I wanted to do was answer questions about myself, but the idea of Edward somewhat voluntarily using his Instagram was too good to pass up. "What are your questions?"

Edward checked the food on the grill quickly before resuming his spot in front of me.

"What made you go in to public relations?"

I nodded to myself. That was a question I could handle. "I like thinking ahead and trying to figure out how people are going to react to something. And I like solving other people's problems."

Edward nodded, his second question already prepared. "What do you do in your free time? Any hobbies?"

I shrugged. "I don't have much free time. I get up, go to the gym, then work."

"The gym can be a hobby," he mused, eyes still on me.

"It's more of an… anger management technique for me," I admitted before I could stop myself. It was the eyes. They were like little sparkling forests that dazzled me in to saying every thought that floated through my head, no matter how closely guarded the secret was. They were dangerous.

Edward's voice was soft and inquisitive when he asked his next question. "What has you so angry?"

"Pass."

His head jerked back a bit, surprised at my answer. "You don't get a pass."

"I think I should. Just one." I was hoping he couldn't hear how desperate I was for the pass in my voice.

"Okay," he nodded. "How was your date?"

My brows shot up, surprised that was what he was using his last question on. Not that I was all that interesting in the first place. It just seemed odd. "It was okay, I guess."

"You guess?"

I could have made an argument that his questions were up, but it was surprisingly refreshing to talk to someone. Have someone who wasn't Rosalie be even remotely interested in something about me.

"I'm not great at the whole dating thing," I admitted.

Edward was about to say something else when a timer went off beside him. We both seemed to wake up from the odd distracted haze between us and quickly get back to reality.

We ended up at the outdoor dinner table after a few more minutes. I sat at the end of the table, opposite of the end Edward was sitting at. Alice and Carlisle were on either side of me, and I spent the entire time wondering why it was that I answered anything Edward ever asked of me.

He tore down every carefully crafted wall I had around myself without seeming to try. Maybe they were just getting weaker over time. Whatever it was, his eyes on me throughout the whole dinner didn't help the issue.

**A/N: We're getting there… let me know what you're thinking! See you Wednesday! **


	6. Chapter 6

**BPOV**

Being Edward's publicist meant a majority of my thoughts should be about him, especially since he was a high priority client for the firm and my only client. Being a woman with an unhealthy and unattainable crush on Edward meant I simultaneously wanted to always be thinking about him and hated myself for every second I did think about him. Both of those things meant my head was in a constant state of confusion and frustration.

Thankfully, after I met Rose, she helped me find an outlet for confusion and frustration and the soul crushing anger I had felt when I moved to Los Angeles. It wasn't often I trained with her these days. I had been her guinea pig a lot when she was studying and preparing for her personal training certifications. My workouts alone were a lot simpler than hers, though she had organized my workout schedule. Cardio days and ab days and everything in between.

Today, though, I woke her up early and asked her to come with me. I already typically had trouble sleeping, but last night it was doubled with my mind constantly replaying my afternoon spent with Edward and his family.

I could come to terms with the fact that he wanted to get to know me because I was working so closely with him. It made sense for a parent to want to know someone who might come and go from their house with their kids in it. Edward wanting to know me really put a hinder on my plan to get over my crush on him, but I understood it.

The rest of his family, though, they were inquisitive ones too. Alice quizzed me on my life in Los Angeles. _What gym do you go to? Where do you live? What does your roommate do? We should all do lunch!_ She was invasive but sweet and her happiness was infectious.

Carlisle was nearly as bad as his daughter. He wasn't pompous or arrogant, even though he had every right to be with his career. He would mumble things under his breath after someone at the table said something, usually little sarcastic remarks followed by a giggle from whoever was seated around him. He wasn't rude, simply trying to make everyone else laugh.

I also caught a few moments of Esme and Jasper's conversation. Most of what Jasper was talking about sounded like gibberish with all the medical terms, but Esme seemed fascinated as he talked about some new research study he was working on.

Even though I seemed to constantly feel Edward's eyes on me during the dinner, I kept mine off of him as much as possible. Because seeing him like that, happy and carefree and joking around with his kids, it did nothing to kill my butterflies. Seeing him smile and laugh and be the complete opposite of the man I once thought him to be was kind of excruciating.

Thus, I ended up at the gym at six in the morning the next day. With Rosalie pushing me harder than usual because I needed it. I needed the distraction of the burn in my abdomen and shoulders and legs. Needed to know I was strong enough, at least physically, to handle whatever the world threw at me. And it had a history of throwing me a lot of shitty punches.

I collapsed on the ground, finally spent, and Rosalie plopped down beside me.

"Stretch," she demanded, kicking my foot lightly with hers. I did as instructed, relaxing when my heart rate finally started to even out.

"So, are you going to tell me what has you all stressed besides work?" she asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow at me.

Rosalie knew me better than anyone else in the world. She knew I wouldn't wake her up at six in the morning just because I wanted a good workout. Before I could spill all of my dirty secrets to her, Emmett bounded over.

"Hey, Bella? There are a couple kids at the front asking for you," he said softly, confusion laced in his voice.

"Kids?" I asked with a frown. I hopped up, Rosalie following me, and headed around the corner only to find Masen and Lucy waiting for me.

"What are you doing here?" I gasped, confused as hell.

"Can we talk to you? About our dad?" Lucy asked softly. Masen suddenly seemed very distracted by Rosalie.

My heart clenched. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, I mean, yeah," Masen stuttered.

My mind started going a hundred miles a minute, the peaceful calm I had achieved after my workout gone. "Just give me a minute, okay?"

"Those are his kids?" Rose asked as I threw my jacket on over my sports bra and grabbed my keys and phone.

"Yeah. I don't even know how they knew I'd be here," I mumbled. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Sure. Good luck," she added with a smile. Her desire to ask me questions swam behind her sparkly blue eyes, but she kept it to herself.

Once I got back to the front, Masen and Lucy followed me out. I had no idea how kids and ages worked, so I wasn't quite sure how to really act around them.

"Does your dad know you're here?" I asked as we stood awkwardly outside the gym. "Or your mom?"

"No," Lucy admitted, earning her a nudge from her brother.

I looked around, spotting a Starbucks across the street. "Let's talk in there," I said, nodding in its direction.

They followed me across the street and I felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility for them as they did. They were only sixteen. Yeah, they could drive and I'm sure they were competent enough to take care of themselves, but they were still kids. With me. When they shouldn't be.

The place was crowded, as every Starbucks was at seven-thirty in the morning. "You guys go snag a table."

I waited in line, ordering myself an iced coffee and two caramel Frappuccino's for Masen and Lucy. I was curious and more than a little nervous walking back over to them. They both stared up at me with wide, green eyes when I pushed the drinks in front of them.

"I was hoping the caramel Frappuccino addiction had been passed down to you two," I told them, hoping to break the awkward tension at the small table. Maybe I was the only one that felt awkward, though.

"Thanks," they smiled simultaneously.

"How'd you know where I would be?" I asked quickly.

"I heard you talking to Aunt Alice about your gym. You said you always did early mornings," Lucy admitted.

I nodded. I did have that conversation with Alice yesterday. "What did you want, then?"

"We want to help," Masen declared, his voice surprisingly stern. It reminded me too much of Edward's. When I frowned, he elaborated. "Our dad. You're helping him, and we want to help you."

I sighed, my panic subsiding and looked at the two kids sitting across from me. It was heartbreakingly sweet, how determined they looked to help their father.

"I hate the way people talk about him," Lucy admitted softly, staring down at her drink. I was pleased to realize that while she looked like her mother, her demeanor was much more pleasant than Irina's.

"I know," I agreed. "I do, too."

"So, can we help?"

I shook my head. "There's really nothing you can…"

"Is it because I checked you out the first time you were at the house? I'm sorry," Masen added quickly.

I smiled patiently at him. "No. It's okay. It's just, there's a lot that goes in to something like this. And, your father specifically told me you two were off limits. Besides, using your kids to improve your image is kind of a sleazy move."

"We're not _kids_," Masen argued.

"I know, I know. It's just…" Even if Edward hadn't told me his kids were off limits, I always thought it was bad practice to go the 'Hey, I've got kids I can't be a bad guy' route. They both looked so determined, though. So invested in helping their father that I didn't have the heart to turn them down.

"You could help him with his Instagram," I offered. "Get him to post a picture every week or so."

Both of their faces lit up and Lucy exclaimed, "I can do that!"

"That's it?" Masen asked with a frown.

"For now." I really didn't want to go against what Edward said about his family being the line, and I made a mental note to tell him about this visit by the end of the day.

I grabbed the napkin from my drink and a forgotten pen on the table, quickly writing down my phone number and pushing it across the table to them. "Call me next time you want to talk. Or if you need anything, okay?"

They both nodded and Lucy dropped the number into her bag.

I stood up to leave, grabbing my keys when Masen spoke up. "It was a good idea. Giving my mom and Demetri those NDAs."

His admission surprised me. While I was no fan of Irina, the kids spent a majority of their time with her and weekends with Edward. It was quite the dig at her if Masen was implying that she would go out of her way to hurt Edward.

I smiled softly at them both. "Can you get yourselves home? Or to school? Or…"

Masen smirked. "Yeah. I parked down the street."

Right. Sixteen meant they could drive. "Good. I'll see you around."

**-B-**

I had to rush to get ready once I got home. My mind was fuzzy and confused and I had the early signs of a migraine coming on. I pulled on a comfortable, grey cotton dress with a cinched knot at the waist and took a few Tylenol before leaving the house.

My entire drive to the theater was spent wondering whether I should tell Edward about my conversation with his kids this morning. My phone buzzed in my bag as I walked down the hall, dropping off Edward's coffee in his surprisingly empty office.

I stared down at the two messages I had, one from both Masen and Lucy so I would have their numbers in case I needed anything from them, too. Pocketing my phone, I looked up as I approached the door to my office, only to see a tall blonde pressed against Edward right on my door.

I froze, feeling my butterflies drop dead in my stomach, and tried to decide what to do. My legs couldn't decide whether to keep going straight or turn around and my eyes were unfortunately glued to the way the blonde was smiling in to her kiss with him.

Edward must have noticed me then, because he pushed her away gently and looked at me with wide eyes.

"Um, sorry. It's just, that's my, uh, office," I stuttered, pointing at the door behind Edward's back.

Edward's eyes looked sad, but that could have just been me projecting my own sudden crushing depression onto him. He muttered a curse, rubbing a hand roughly over his mouth and along his jaw.

The blonde, who I could now tell was one of the infamous six, smiled politely at me. Her name was Serena King and she was one of the actual supermodels he had been with in the past.

"Serena was dropping off the NDA you had sent to her," Edward said, his voice gruff but quiet.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. She held out the folder and I opened it, making sure everything looked okay. "Thank you," I said quietly, stepping around them when they finally moved away from my door.

I closed my door a little too roughly but I didn't care. I dropped the file on my desk and let my bag fall from my shoulder. Leaning against the wall, I slid down until my butt hit the ground and tears started flowing freely.

This whole thing… it was _so stupid_. I was stupid. I had gone twenty-two years without having a single crush. Then I go and have a butterfly-inducing, heartbreakingly intense one on my client. At the job I had been working my ass off for four years to get. When there were a million and one reasons why we could never have any kind of relationship outside of work.

I couldn't keep meeting his kids and having dinner with his family. There could be no more Starbucks treats in the mornings or sweet smiles as he walked out to film. I had to draw the line and stick to it before anything got worse.

Taking a few deep breaths, I picked myself up off of the floor. I stood by the door for a minute, listening to make sure the coast was clear before scurrying down the hall to the restroom.

Thankfully, it was empty. I grabbed a paper towel and blew my nose, hating myself for getting so sad at something I never had in the first place. Letting myself cry over someone who should have been nothing more than a client.

_Shut it down before it's too late_.

I ran my fingers gently under my eyes, collecting the smudged mascara that had collected there. The door opened and I barely kept myself from poking my eye out as I jumped.

Angela Weber walked in. She was one of the writers, a newer one if I was remembering correctly. She had stark black hair and almond eyes and a kind face. I hadn't said more than two words to her, but she hadn't put up a fuss about me approving what they wrote so that was a plus in my book.

"You okay?" she asked softly.

I nodded, tossing the paper towel and straightening myself up.

She reached her hand in the purse on her shoulder, holding out a miniature chocolate bar to me. "Need some chocolate?"

My brows shot up and my eyes met hers before I took it. "Thanks."

"You're doing a good job, you know. The show is slowly improving, I think."

I nodded, unsure of what to say. My communication skills were iffy in situations where someone hadn't just walked in on my emotional breakdown.

"I'm here if you need to talk. Or need some chocolate," she added with a smile.

I offered her the best smile I could manage in return. "Thanks," I repeated, leaving quickly.

The rest of the day, I exiled myself in my office. I responded to emails and approved scripts and turned down more than one pornographic film deal for Edward. Work had always been my best distraction, and it worked today because by the time I looked up again as there was a knock at my door it was nearing four.

"Come in," I called, trying to keep my voice firm because I knew who it was. There was only ever one person who came to visit me in my office.

He was in a suit, dark blue with a crisp white shirt on underneath. I only let my eyes linger on him for a minute before returning back to my computer. It took every ounce of determination I had to beat my butterflies to death before they filled my stomach at his presence.

"You weren't at rehearsal," he said softly, leaning against the door jam.

"I was busy."

There was an uncomfortable silence between the two of us.

"Did you need something?" I asked, trying to keep my voice sharp.

Edward waited to respond until my eyes were on him. "I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't know she was going to show up and – "

"It's fine," I snapped. "Although, for future reference, I would avoid blatant displays of affection with other women in the hallway while you're trying to run with the idea that you're happily married."

Edward's eyes hardened and his shoulders tensed. "Right," he grunted with a nod, leaving without another word.

This was what I needed. Harsh words and glares. The smiles and jokes, those were no good. Or too good. Either way, I couldn't let it happen anymore.

**-B-**

How I managed to survive the week until Friday, I wasn't sure. Edward and I barely spoke. He was mad at me because I was mad at him. And I was mad at him because he wasn't the asshole he was supposed to be. Which, in turn, turned him in to kind of an asshole. It was a vicious cycle that I had created myself.

I ended up sitting on the floor, my back against the couch with a pizza box in front of me. I changed in to my most comfortable sweatpants and a _Tonight Show with Edward Cullen_ t-shirt because I was a glutton for punishment. Rosalie had gotten it for me as a joke after I first told her about him becoming my client.

My pizza was untouched and the television wasn't even on in front of me when Rose walked in. She sat silently beside me.

"I have a crush on Edward Cullen," I admitted softly, my voice cracking at his name.

"He still gives you butterflies?" Rose asked quietly. I had forgotten I told her about the butterflies after my first meeting with him.

"Yeah," I answered. "They get worse every day."

"He's married, Bella," Rose added, her voice more concerned than I had ever heard her.

I turned my head in her direction, hoping to tell her with my eyes what I could verbalize. Because I _did_ have an NDA and I couldn't tell anyone about my job or the secrets I held. Not even Rose, even though I trusted her completely.

"Oh."

"I don't know how to make it go away. I've tried, but nothing works." I've tried being nice to him, hoping my relationship would turn platonic. I've tried hating him all week and it just made me sad and lonely. It was so fucking stupid of me, missing someone I never had.

Edward was never mine to lose. He was my job. And I was the idiotic girl who got heartbroken over her first client. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

"Sometimes," Rose sighed, wrapping her arm through mine. My head fell to her shoulder. "Sometimes, you just have to ride it out."

"That's not a very good answer," I grumbled.

"I know," she went on. "I'm sorry the first guy you've ever liked is… him."

"Yeah," I whimpered, traitorous tears starting to spill out of my eyes. "Me too."

**-B-**

"I have everything set for New York the week after next," I added. Edward and I's weekly meeting hadn't happened at his home this weekend. I never asked him for a meeting and he never mentioned it to me, either. Instead, on Monday I walked in to his office to let him know how things were going.

"We'll leave Saturday morning and you can watch that weeks episode being filmed. Then you start working on your episode Monday. We'll come back the following Sunday."

_Distance. Distance was the key. _That would be a lot easier to accomplish if I wasn't about to be in New York with him for over a week. I had spent days trying to convince myself I could send him without me, but too much could go wrong. And I was determined to fix his image, and not just because I had an all-consuming frustrating as hell crush on him.

Sure, I might have spent all weekend moping in my bed. And it took every ounce of willpower I had to not acknowledge the butterflies floating around in my chest. But I was still here and getting my job done. As torturous as every day was.

"Don't bother booking flights. We can take my parents' plane," Edward said, voice devoid of emotion.

"Oh, I don't need to…"

Edward rolled his eyes. "It's just a plane, Isabella. They're staying in town for the foreseeable future and get their feelings hurt if any of their children attempt to fly commercial with it ready. It's easier, safer, and faster. I'll send you the information."

I had also been reverted to _Isabella_. It happened at the same time I started attempting to keep my distance from him. Somehow it managed to hurt my feelings, but I wasn't sure why. I brought it on myself.

"Um, okay," I sighed, editing the calendar on my computer in my lap. "I think that's it."

I packed up my things and stood. I was nearly out the door when he said, "Did you tell my children to make me use that Instagram account?"

"What?" I gasped, turning to face him. I heard the question. Understood it. Just didn't want to answer.

"Every three days one of them tries to get me to use it. Like fucking clockwork."

My impromptu meeting with them had happened the morning I saw him with Serena. It had been my plan to tell him about it, then everything went to hell and it completely slipped my mind.

To his credit, he had been using it. The pictures he, or probably Masen and Lucy, posted were the only times I really saw him smile these days.

"They showed up at my gym one morning. I took them to Starbucks and they were desperate for some way to help you. I told them no repeatedly but they're just as stubborn as you. That was the simplest thing I could think of to give them on the spot."

"I told you they were – "

"I know what you said, Mr. Cullen," I sighed, feeling completely defeated. "I didn't seek them out. They came to me. I'm sorry I forgot to tell you."

I made my way down to my office with my head down. I was tired of fighting with him and I could tell he wasn't trying as hard on the show, too. The writers were back to trying to squeeze in everything _they_ thought was funny, but half of it the public would call insensitive.

I knew I was being a little picky. Most of it was probably fine. But Edward was walking a fine line and one wrong thing could push him over. At the end of the day, my job was basically to protect him and only him.

Later that afternoon, I took my spot by the cue-card guy. His name was Paul and he was probably my only friend in the building. Him and Angela, who stopped by my office sometimes just to say hi.

Edward came out and the cheers were right on cue. He started the monologue I had approved a few hours ago, but then I heard a name I had definitely nixed from it.

My eyes went wide and I slid my hand quickly across my throat, hoping Edward could see me through the lights aimed at him. His brows flinched, resisting turning into a frown and he only slightly stuttered over himself.

"Jack Taylor… he's here tonight to perform two songs from his upcoming album. You wouldn't know, though, because there is absolutely no one in the audience only here for him," he added with a smirk, earning a round of mind-numbing screams from the audience full of everyone who was only here to see him.

I sighed in relief, grateful for his quick thinking. I mouthed _thank you_ to him before leaving the stage.

I had cut that line. I knew I had because I double checked about four times to make sure it was gone.

The writers' room was still full of everyone, a slew of sandwiches in the middle of the table was they watched the taping from the television hanging in the corner of the room.

"Who added the Jack Taylor joke back in?" I snapped, eying everyone. They were all wide eyes and snickers and no answers. "Who added it?"

"Shit, I did," James chuckled. "It was a good joke. Cullen just has no taste, recovering like that."

I rolled my eyes, my hands coming to fists at my side. "Jack Taylor is the grandson of the head of this fucking network," I hissed through clenched teeth. "He uses a pseudo name."

"Oh."

"Oh?" I barked, my eyes going wide. "That's your response? You could have singlehandedly gotten this show off the air within about twenty-four hours if that had gone through."

"We could have edited it out before the show aired," James grumbled.

"You don't think the audience full of teenagers who have basically devoted their lives to Jack Taylor wouldn't have posted about it in an hour? Or that someone in this building wouldn't have let it slip to someone else and news would have eventually gotten to his grandfather?"

It had been a really long time since I had been this furious. I was so tired of everything from having to pretend to hate Edward to having to defend every single decision I ever made. So fucking tired of _no one _ever listening to me.

"You don't mention tabloids calling the grandson of your bosses bosses _bosses_ boss a lice infested ratand then ensure the audience you had him fucking checked before he got there!" I groaned.

"If anyone pulls shit like that again I will personally make sure you are fired on the spot, do you understand?"

There were muttered agreements as I left, slamming the door behind me. I was no one's boss. I had no power over who was hired or fired at the show. But if someone pulled anything like that again I would do my damndest to get rid of them as soon as possible.

I spent the next two hours sitting in my office, head in my hands, fighting back against every memory of people never caring enough to listen to me.

_"You're overreacting, Bella. It's just a scratch, and Tyler is sorry. Right, son?"_

_ "You need to be more careful, Bella. I'm tired of spending so much time in the emergency room."_

_ "Your mom wouldn't let that happen, Bell. You just need to keep yourself upright."_

_ "I'm tired of that girl blaming my son, Ren. She's a bold-faced, liar."_

"Isabella?" Edward's voice broke me out of my thoughts.

I wiped my eyes quickly, a few unfortunate tears stuck in my lashes. He was standing in the doorway, still in his suit.

"Angela told me what happened," he said softly, walking a few steps in. It was a small office, so a couple steps put him right in front of me at my desk. "Good catch."

"Good recovery," I added quietly.

I felt his eyes on me and I avoided looking up at him for as long as possible. He was waiting for it, though. Had to be, because he wasn't budging.

His eyes were full of questions when I finally gave in. Maybe questions about my outburst at the writers or my sudden coldness directed at him last week. I hated my urge to jump up and run to him, to make the sadness in his eyes go away and the hope that maybe he could make mine go away, too.

"You're doing a good job, Bella," he added quietly. I watched, holding my breath, when his hand came up to my face slowly. His thumb gently flicked away an embarrassing, escaped tear that had fallen down my cheek.

His smile was sad when he turned and walked away.

**A/N: Slow and steady with these two… kind of the complete opposite of the Hopeless series, huh? Hope you're enjoying it so far. Thank you for all of your kind words!**

**You can find a BKOB pinterest board for some of my inspo if you're interested – just search for **_**fragilelittleflame**_** to find me. See you Friday!**

**EDIT: My apologies for having mixing up the names _Lucy_ and _Maggie_ in the last couple chapters. Edward's daughter is named Lucy. Wont happen again! **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: There is some sensitive content discussed in this chapter. A detailed trigger warning is at the bottom. If you have any sensitivity to certain subjects, please scroll down there and read that before you continue.**

**BPOV**

"I'm so jealous," Rosalie sighed. "This time next week you'll be in New York City."

It was pretty comical, Rosalie Hale being even remotely jealous of me for anything. "For work, not for fun."

"Yeah, but you'll have some fun," she added. "A lot of people would enjoy spending the week planning an episode of SNL."

"I'm not going to be planning. I'm going to make sure my client doesn't say anything stupid."

"That guy does have a track record of saying some stupid shit," Emmett added ruefully.

We were all at dinner, some casual burger place downtown. Rosalie and Emmett had been nearly inseparable since that first double date. It meant I didn't see her much, because she spent a lot of her nights at Emmett's apartment. I was pretty sure she was trying not to act too happy with him around me considering the only man I had ever been interested in was, technically, married.

I usually brushed off their invites to dinner because I didn't want to be a third wheel, and I didn't want to drag them down with me in my current depressed and angry state. I missed my friend, though, and I was about to be gone for a week.

"Did I tell you about the writer who nearly got the show cancelled a few days ago?" I asked, dipping a fry in some ketchup.

"Bella?" My name came from behind me. I turned quickly, my stomach dropping as I saw Alice and Jasper walking over.

"Alice, Jasper," I gasped, eyes wide and stomach in knots. I hadn't seen them since the last time I was at Edward's for their family dinner.

They smiled politely, and I realized I was supposed to make introductions. "Oh, this is my roommate Rosalie Hale and her boyfriend Emmett McCarthy. This is Alice Cullen and her fiancé, Jasper Whitlock. She's Edward's sister."

They all exchanged pleasant greetings and I sat there wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

"We were just picking up some food to go. I thought I recognized you across the room, though," Alice added politely. "Maybe you can tell me why my brother seems to be a perpetual grump these days," she said with a laugh.

It was probably meant to be polite small talk, but it felt like a stab to each of the wallowing butterflies in my stomach.

"It's probably my fault," I told her. "He's still getting used to the whole publicity thing."

"I don't know," she sighed. "He does nothing but talk highly of you."

"Alice," Jasper interrupted, his voice sounding oddly like a warning. "We should get going."

"Oh, right," she giggled. "It was lovely to meet you two," she said to Emmett and Rose, who gave her kind smiles. Then, she reached down to whisper to me. "Don't give up on him. Please."

I frowned, unsure what it was supposed to mean. Did she think I would drop Edward as a client because he was grumpy? Like I really had a choice in the matter?

_If_ I had a choice… if I could keep my current job and have a roster of other clients I wasn't slowly becoming overly attached to… would I do it? Leave Edward behind and never see him again? Part of me hoped I could, and another knew I would regret never seeing him again.

"So, who almost got the show canceled?" Emmett asked, leaning in and ready for a story.

**-B-**

On Monday, as I was walking past Edward's office to get to mine, a couple voices from his open office door shouted my name. Masen and Lucy skittered out of his office.

"Oh, hi," I muttered, stopping in the hall as they came over to me. "What are you guys doing here?"  
"Schools out," Masen sighed. "We came to hang out with Dad for the day."

"That's nice," I smiled. "I should get going. Have fun, though."

I could still hear them walking behind me as I got to my office door. They followed me in without a word and were still standing there when I turned around.

"We're sorry. If we got you in trouble. Dad came home the other day and – "

"It's fine," I assured them. "You don't have to worry about it."

"He's been really grumpy lately," Lucy said, sounding sad. "I think he's mad at us for going to you."

I frowned, wondering why Edward was grumpy with his family, if what Alice and Lucy were saying was true. I understood his attitude toward me, because I kind of asked for it, but I didn't think it would make him upset all the time.

"His job has been stressful lately," I assured them. "I'm sure it's nothing to do with you guys."

"Yeah," Masen sighed. "So, is there anything else we can – "

"Oh, no. Definitely not," I answered quickly. I wasn't going to do anything involving them. "You should go find your dad. I've got some work to do."

"Okay," Lucy sighed. "Come on, Mase."

I managed to push Edward and his grumpiness out of my mind for most of the morning. I got a, thankfully, good script from the writers and sent it back to them. It was a simple, somewhat normal day, until a man dressed in all black came knocking at my door a few hours before filming was set to start.

"Isabella Swan?"  
"Um, yes?" I answered, sounding like an idiot agreeing to my name like it was a question.

"There's a group out front wanting in under your name."

I frowned. Rosalie would never try to get in here, not without telling me first. Neither would Emmett. I couldn't think of anyone else who would know to try and use my name here. I got up and followed the man, who I now guessed was part of the security detail at the theater, to the guest entrance.

My blood ran cold.

Heart stopped.

Limbs went numb.

Ears started ringing.

The last people I expected to show up here were my mother, step-father, and their children.

I froze a few feet away, my body suddenly going through a fight or flight response. I wanted to turn around and not look back and I wanted to scream at them for everything they ever did to me.

"What are you doing here?" I snapped.

Renee frowned at me. Her face hadn't aged since the last time I saw her when I was eighteen. Not in a naturally pretty way, but in a God-how-many-needles-had-been-stuck-in-her kind of way. She wasn't that old, either.

"That's no way to greet your family, Bella," she groaned. "We came to Los Angeles for a little family vacation. Charlie told me about your job here, and Tyler has always loved the show."

It made me nauseous, thinking of Tyler liking Edward. They were polar opposites. And I didn't want them so much as associated together in the same sentence.

"You can't come in here," I said quickly, panic starting to take over.

Phil frowned at me, and I couldn't stomach looking at Tyler. There were a couple younger children with them. A ten-year-old and a fourteen-year-old. Bree and Royce. All of the people my mother chose and defended and believed over me.

It was hard enough keeping myself together around here these days. I couldn't have a few of my worst nightmares walking around.

"Come on, Bella. Tyler just graduated Miami State. Top of his class. He deserves a reward," Phil smirked in my direction and I wanted to throw up.

"Everything okay?" Edward's smooth, gentle voice came from behind me.

"It's fine," I squeaked. "This is my, uh, mother and step-father and their children."

Edward smiled, his should-be-award winning smile and shook everyone's hand. I wanted to cry when he grabbed Tyler's.

"You have a wonderful daughter," he told them with a smile.

Renee and Phil both beamed. "Thank you!"

Then, before I could do anything to stop it, he had one of the men at the nearby check-in desk grab a few passes for them for the rest of the day.

"I can show them around if you want, Sir," the boy, an intern I think, offered. Probably trying to make a good impression on Edward when he never even got close to him on a regular day.

"That'd be wonderful," Renee exclaimed with a smile. Then, they were all across the threshold of the door and I knew I had lost the battle. They all followed the intern, not sparing a second glance at me.

I must have stood there a moment too long, because then I felt Edward's hand on my back, warmth seeping through my thin button down.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

I blinked away the impending wetness behind my eyes and turned to face him. "Yes, fine. That was nice of you, thanks."

He nodded slowly. "Of course. They're your family."

I wanted to tell him he was wrong. Instead I nodded and held my breath around every corner until I was safely secluded in my office.

**-B-**

I didn't have to see them again until I walked out to the stage to watch Edward film tonight's episode. I could have chickened out and watched from one of the hundreds of screens in the building that showed it, but after James' stunt last week I didn't want to risk it.

They weren't here to see me, they were here for themselves. To feel special and get what they wanted. They didn't even try to pretend to want to see me, considering I had managed to hide out in my office the last two hours they had been here.

I straightened myself up, making sure my white button down was tucked in to my black jeans all the way around myself. It was procrastination at its finest.

After three deep breaths I opened my door and headed down the hall toward the stage. I wanted to scream when I heard a hauntingly familiar voice call out my name behind me.

I stopped and turned around and Tyler was coming down the hall toward me.

"I've been looking for you," he said with a nauseating smirk.

"I was working. What do you want?" I snapped. Taking a step back for every step he took toward me.

"I've missed having you around," he joked with a dark chuckle, reaching up to grab a strand of my hair.

I flinched out of his reach. "Don't touch me."

Again, he chuckled. "You were always so easy to rile up."

"You got what you wanted. You're at the show, go watch and just leave."

"Don't be so fucking rude, Bella," he boomed, hands clasping around my biceps and pushing me roughly into the wall.

I panicked for a moment, then remembered every self-defense class Rosalie went to with me. I managed to get out of his grasp but that quickly ended with his fist connecting with my nose.

In the back of my mind I heard my name being called out. My back slid down the wall and I felt Tyler kneeling on front of me, hands gently on my biceps now. I held my nose, which was now throbbing, my hands quickly getting covered in blood.

"She's a klutz, man. Just walked right in to the wall," Tyler chuckled, pretending to try to help me up.

"Don't touch her," the voice, now close enough for me to recognize as Edward's, said. Tyler was gone from in front of me. Through watery eyes I could see Edward push him against the wall opposite of me.

"She didn't just walk into the fucking wall," he spat out.

I saw someone in black pull Edward away from Tyler. My whole body kind of shut down. Went numb, maybe. My ears were ringing and my nose was throbbing and I thought I was crying. I couldn't tell.

"Keep an eye on him and call the cops," Edward demanded.

"No," I shouted quietly from my pathetic spot on the floor. "No cops."

Edward knelt in front of me, his demeanor doing a one-eighty from a second ago. He gently pulled my hands away from my nose. With a frown he pulled the handkerchief from his suit pocket and pressed it into my hands, already caked in my own blood.

"No cops," I repeated.

"Bella – "

"I don't want headlines about a woman attacked at your show," I pleaded. _Maybe my mind was working better than my limbs_. "No cops."

Edward sighed, eyes dark and sad and angry. He pushed a few strands of hair behind my ear as I held his handkerchief against my nose.

Finally, he turned to the small crowd that surrounded us. "Find the rest of his family and get them out of here. Now." Once Tyler and the few others were gone, he turned back to me. "Can you walk?"

I nodded, standing up carefully. My head was a little fuzzy and my nose was throbbing, but I was fine. Physically. Maybe.

Edward kept an arm tightly wrapped around my waist and walked me into his office. He had a couch to the left of the door and gently sat me down. I watched him walk around his office, grabbing a sweatshirt from a closet and a handful of Kleenex from a box on his desk.

He knelt back in front of me, carefully grabbing for my hands. "Let me see."

I dropped my arms to my lap, grateful that the bleeding seemed to already be slowing down. Embarrassment started to settle in and tears started to sting my eyes.

"It's okay," Edward sighed, cupping my cheeks and wiping them away quickly.

I knew from experience crying was only going to make things worse. Sniffles with a bruised nose were… not fun. "I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Bella," he answered fiercely. His eyes hardened but before he could say anything else there was a knock at the door.

"You're on in five, Mr. Cullen."

"Wait here while I cancel – "  
"No. You can't cancel," I told him, my voice overly panicked.

"Yes, I can."

"Please, don't. Not because of me." It was already humiliating enough. "I'll go home and – "

"You won't be going anywhere alone," Edward responded quickly. "You can stay with me tonight. So I know you're okay."

I shook my head quickly, but that just made it more fuzzy. "No, I –"

"I'm not sending you home alone like this, end of discussion," he said sternly. It made me feel like a child being scolded. Maybe it was his dad voice.

Whatever it was, I sulked back into the couch. I didn't have the energy to fight. "Okay."

Edward stood, straightening his suit coat and dropping the sweatshirt on the couch next to me. "In case you get cold. I'll have someone bring you some ice."

He turned to leave to film, like I had pleaded with him to do, but my hand had a mind of its own when it quickly reached out and grabbed his. The thought of being left alone suddenly sent me into a panic.

"I…" I stuttered. I wasn't sure what I wanted to say, but I felt like there was something on the tip of my tongue.

_Thank you. _

_ Please don't leave me._

His eyes fell to me, probably looking more than a little pathetic. He lifted my chin, leaning down and ghosted his lips over my forehead. "You're safe here. I promise."

I nodded, watching him hesitate a moment before walking out of his office. Once I was alone I curled up in a ball in the corner of the couch, Edward's sweatshirt in my lap. My whole body was jittery and my mind was all over the place.

I hated myself for being in this position again, bruised and bloody because of Tyler. It was something I promised myself at eighteen would never happen again. I hated myself for being so completely comforted by Edward when I knew it made me so, so selfish. I hated myself for not being able to stick up for myself when I saw them all here this afternoon.

"Bella?" Lucy's quiet voice came from the door as it cracked open a little bit.

I sat up quickly, wiping my cheeks while being careful to avoid my nose. "You can come in."

She walked in slowly, a bag of ice in one hand and my giant tote bag in the other. "Dad told me to bring you some ice and pack up your stuff in your office. I hope I got everything."

"Oh, thank you," I said sincerely, grabbing the heavy bag from her hands and then taking the ice.

"Jasper said that if your nose isn't bleeding anymore to lie back and ice it until he gets here."

"Jasper?" I groaned, doing as instructed. Calling an orthopedic surgeon seemed a little over the top. But very considerate.

"Yeah. Masen broke his nose a few years ago playing baseball and Jasper took care of him. Sorry. I ramble when I'm nervous. Do you want me to leave?"

I smiled over at her. She was incredibly sweet for a sixteen-year-old girl. When I was sixteen girls pointed out my crooked nose when it was broken before I had it reset.

"You can stay," I whispered. "Unless you want to go watch your dad."

"No. He asked me and Mase to keep an eye on you. Masen is outside waiting for Jasper."

I sighed, doing my best not to start crying again. No one had ever cared so much about me when I was hurt. I had broken my nose, sprained my ankles, broken my arm multiple times… and it was always treated as a hassle.

No compassion, no sympathy.

It was my fault.

Always my fault.

**-B-**

Edward somehow filmed the show in record time. Less than two hours after he left he was back, walking in with Jasper. Who was still in a pair of scrubs, carrying a small medical bag.

My time with Lucy had been surprisingly relaxing. She told me about what schools she was going to apply to soon while I iced my nose, talked about some of her summer plans and friends. She was very easy to talk to, even for me. It was a nice distraction from the throbbing pain in my nose.

"How do you feel?" both Edward and Jasper asked as soon as they walked in.

"Like I got punched in the face," I grumbled, sitting up and dropping the mostly melted bag of ice to the couch.

Everyone looked at me with sympathetic, sad eyes.

"It was a joke," I muttered.

"How long did it take the bleeding to stop?" Jasper asked, kneeling in front of me and grabbing a few things out of his bag.

"Just a few minutes. I don't think it's broken, I'm sorry you had to come down here."

"It's no problem at all, Bella. You've broken it before?" he asked quietly, a nasal speculum and light in his hands.

The energy in the room shifted considerably. Worse than after my pathetic attempt at a joke. Edward told Lucy to wait outside, leaning against his desk with his eyes never leaving me.

"Yes," I sighed.

"Bella…"

"I don't want to talk about it," I said quickly. "Thank you for coming, I know you're busy but I just… I'm fine."

Jasper nodded and asked me to tilt my head back. After a quick look at my nose he agreed that it didn't seem broken. "Ice it a few times a day, that should help with the pain and bruising. Take some Tylenol as needed. And call me if you need anything, okay?" he said, pulling a card out of his bag.

"I will. Thank you," I whispered.

I watched Jasper nod at Edward as he left, closing the door softly behind him. My couple hours with Lucy calmed me down a lot, and left me feeling more embarrassed than anything about the whole thing.

"Thank you," I mumbled. "For… you know. Everything."

Edward nodded, eyes still on me. Always on me.

"I really can just go home," I told him quickly. His offer for me to stay at his home was sweet and generous and too much for me to accept. I had already come into his life and messed everything up. I wasn't going to impose anymore.

Edward frowned at me. "You already agreed."

"I know, but… you've already done more for me than you have to. And your kids are here and…"

Edward's voice was quiet when he spoke. Almost sad. "I would be able to rest better if I knew you were safe."

His sincerity and sad eyes wore me down immediately.

"Okay," I whispered. "Thank you."

Edward looked immediately relieved, grabbing my bag from the floor and holding a hand out to me.

I took his hand without thinking about the rush of elated butterflies that would swarm my chest. They were devastated when I dropped it as soon as I stood up. I reached for my bag and Edward shook his head, grabbing a few things off of his desk before we left the office.

"Don't you need to change?" I asked quietly. He was still in his suit.

He shrugged. "I can do it at home."

Lucy and Masen were waiting for us in the hall. Both seemed a little scared to look at me, probably because my nose had to look dreadful. The fresh air was welcome once we stepped outside. My nose was stuffy from crying and it was extremely unpleasant to try and sniffle it away, but the fresh air seemed to clear it up a bit.

Edward opened the passenger side door to his black Mercedes, carefully putting my bag in by feet once I sat down. He slid in gracefully next to me, and my heart went in to double time once his door was closed.

He had a very strong presence. For most it was probably because he was a celebrity, but it was more than that. Maybe just to me, but sitting beside him in the car made my head fuzzy.

I grabbed my phone out of my bag, typing and retyping a message to Rose to explain the situation. I settled on asking her if she was even going to be home tonight, to which I got an immediate response of _no_ with a winky face.

Edward pulled the car smoothly into his spacious garage. There was room for about four other cars inside, and each one looked more expensive than the last. The Mercedes must qualify as his 'family' car of the bunch.

I opened my door to get out, met with a frown from Edward after he had opened Lucy's door. My bag was snatched from my hand again and I followed everyone inside.

"You two scrounge up something for dinner, okay? I'm going to show Bella to the guestroom," Edward said, walking by and ruffling Masen's hair as he passed him.

The guestroom was just around the corner from the kitchen. There was a queen bed covered in dark grey bedding. Everything else was inconsequential because suddenly all I wanted to do was sleep. And shower.

"There's a full bathroom attached here," Edward said quietly, walking through the room and opening another door. "Towels and everything you need should be there. I'll bring you something more comfortable to change in to."

I shook my head quickly. "You don't have to – "

Edward rolled his eyes and left quickly, presumably for the clothes.

I went to the bathroom, groaning when I saw myself in the mirror. My cheeks had dried tears stained on them. Blood was caked around my nose, and an ugly bruise already starting to form.

Grabbing a towel, I wet the edge and started working on at least getting rid of the dried blood.

"Ow," I mumbled, putting a bit too much pressure in just the wrong place. I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing every twinge was going to make my eyes water. When I opened them back up, Edward was standing behind me.

"Here," he said softly, grabbing the towel from my hands. He pressed a hand lightly against my hip, turning me to face him.

I didn't breathe the entire time he cleaned up my face. His hands were more gentle and steady than mine. And he looked so focused and concerned.

I should have been thinking about a hundred other things; my embarrassment over the entire night, what I was going to tell Rose, how I would ever repay Edward for his generosity.

Instead, there was only one question floating around my mind.

_Why are you taking such good care of me?_

**A/N: Finally getting to the nitty gritty with these two… anyone who thought I could write a simple, sweet story has not suffered through the emotional trauma of the hopeless series. **

**A couple of you noticed I accidentally referred to Lucy as Maggie a couple times the last couple chapters. The mistake is fixed now, and I'm sorry for any confusion! **

**I think I am going to move to updates twice a week in order to try to keep a little bit ahead of myself and updates as regular as possible. Next week updates will be Tuesday/Friday!  
**

_**Trigger Warning**_**: a majority of this chapter deals with sibling abuse. If that or any kind of abuse bothers you, please PM me if you'd rather have a simple chapter summary to get through the story. **


	8. Chapter 8

**BPOV**

I woke up groggy and disoriented. Sleep never came easy to me, and I only ever got about five hours a night. It wasn't surprising to see the clock flashing three o'clock in the dark room.

The last twelve hours flashed through my mind and I groaned, pressing my head into the fluffy pillow beneath me and hissing through clenched teeth when that made my nose throb. The flash of pain meant I was now wide awake.

I knew from years of experience that if I didn't quickly find something else for my mind to focus on, it would go to very unwanted places. Flicking on the bedside light, I grabbed my bag and wandered out into the quiet house. I tiptoed over to the same sitting area Edward and I had our first meeting and set my bag down.

I wandered through the room for a minute, glancing from the bright city out the window to the beautiful kitchen next to me. Everything in it looked too expensive for me to touch, and I didn't want to wake anyone. I only opened the refrigerator to look for some way to get water. Then I noticed a few beers in the back and grabbed one of those. I was never a big drinker, but the occasion seemed right for some alcohol.

There were too many problems floating around my brain for me to focus on. My life had gone from organized and driven by school to chaotic and driven by butterflies in my stomach.

I spent ten minutes wandering the kitchen, looking for any kind of trashcan to toss the bottle cap in and coming up empty. I tossed the cap in my bag, not wanting to make a mess in Edward's kitchen, and sat down to get to work.

I had only gone through a few emails, hardly enough to get the days' events out of my mind, when I heard footsteps.

"I'm sorry," I gasped quietly, seeing Edward round the corner and freeze when he saw me. "Did I wake you up?"

He shook his head, eyes a little shocked. "No. I was coming to check on you."

_Why are you taking such good care of me? _My question from last night flashed through my mind. No one cared when this happened. I had come to terms with that a long time ago. Edward hadn't seemed to get the memo on that, though.

"Oh," I mumbled, not sure what to say. Suddenly feeling like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar with my beer bottle in hand. "I took a beer."

Edward smiled, a crooked half smile that I had never seen before. "That's okay."

I took a swig, eyes following him as he sat on the opposite end of the couch I was on. I was sitting with my back against the armrest, laptop in front of me and he mimicked my position, eyes always on me.

I owed him an explanation, it was the least I owed him after everything he had done for me. I took another long drink, cringing at the taste. "You can ask."

Edward sighed and ran a hand over his chin. "How long has your step-brother been abusing you?"

I flinched at the question, even though I knew it was coming. "Since I was about eight, I think."

He let out a mumbled curse. "Was it ever… did he…"

"No," I answered quickly. That was the one blessing I had, that Tyler had never _touched_ me. Not that way.

Edward let out a shaky breath, nodding to himself and only looking slightly relieved. "Your mother?"

I snorted at the question, cringing when my nose twinged. "I told my mother about it when I was eleven, after he shoved me down the stairs and I broke my arm. We were in the emergency room waiting for a doctor. She rolled her eyes at me and told me he was just playing, that I probably tripped because I was always so clumsy."

"You were never clumsy, though," Edward muttered.

"No," I sighed, taking another disgusting pull of my beer. "I can walk across a flat surface and not end up at the bottom of the stairs."

"Your father?"

I shrugged. "I told him, too. But, he had five other kids with his second wife within about eight years. He was too busy and agreed with Renee that I was just clumsy."

The whole situation was something I avoided on a daily basis. Whenever I couldn't sleep my mind tended to wander, so I liked being able to work at three in the morning to distract myself, or go to the gym at six and burn all of the anger away with a good workout.

"No one ever believed me," I whispered, talking mostly to myself. It didn't matter how many times I decided I didn't care about them anymore, or how often I told myself I was past the situation. The whole thing left me physically and emotionally scarred. And the two people who were supposed to care the most just… didn't.

They made me doubt everything about myself. Made me in to the kind of person that snapped whenever someone questioned my decision, even when it was a stupid one. The kind of person that was shocked when someone showed me even the most basic form of kindness because I didn't think I deserved it. The person who was too indifferent to speak my opinions when in a crowd because I felt like no one cared in the first place.

"Then you moved about as far away from Florida as you could get," Edward mumbled.

I nodded. "I hadn't seen them in four years," I admitted. I'd had therapists that had to dig the whole story out of me, but Edward was too easy to talk to.

Edward cursed to himself. "I shouldn't have let them in."

"It's not your fault. You were being nice."

Edward shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I still didn't understand why he cared so much, and I had my parents to thank for that, but I appreciated it. "I'm sorry about all of this," I sighed, suddenly feeling like an idiot for throwing all of my problems at him.

Before he could tell me I had nothing to be sorry for, I kept going. "I'm sorry about yesterday, about how invasive some of my questions are, about snapping at you sometimes about it. I'm sorry you got stuck with me as your publicist," I shrugged.

I was very aware that I was entirely underqualified to be his publicist. Someone with his stature needed someone with more experience than I had, and I knew Newton only gave him to me because I was an easy fall guy for not fixing Edward's image.

"I'm not," he admitted, his voice more determined than anything. "I'm sorry your parents are… fucking vile. But, I'm not sorry you're here. You're wonderful at your job, Bella. Determined, hardworking, and stubborn as hell. Even I know it's not the kind of thing that shows results over night."

I sighed, eying him. "You're very good at that," I mumbled.

Edward frowned. "At what?"  
"Being nice. Comforting. I don't know."

His frown turned in to a small smile. He was the picture of comfort across from me. Sweatpants low on his hips and a black t-shirt on top. His hair was gloriously messy, partly from sleep and partly from the way he constantly pulled at it as I was talking to him.

We were dressed very similarly. Though the sweatpants on my hips were about three sizes too big and double knotted so they stayed up.

"You can go back to bed, Mr. Cullen," I mumbled, my thoughts suddenly going where only my butterflies wanted them to go.

"God, I hate it when you call me that," he grunted, again running a hand through his messy hair. "I already feel too old around you."

My brows shot up. "You're not old." Sure, he was twelve years older than me, but thirty-four didn't qualify as _old_.

"Okay, Ms. Twenty-two-year old."

I laughed at that, probably my first full out laugh in days. Maybe it was just the exhaustion or pain in my nose that was making me a little looser with myself.

Edward stood from the couch, snatching the half empty beer bottle from in front of me and taking a swig. I frowned up at him and he chuckled. "You cringe every time you drink it. What would you like? Wine?"

"Oh, um, sure," I replied. He walked over to the kitchen, I leaned back in the couch and saw him open up an unsuspecting cabinet only for a wine refrigerator to be hiding behind it.

"Red or white?"

"White."

Edward came back with his hands full of drinks and a laptop. He got back in his spot across from me on the couch, opening up his computer without a word.

**-B-**

"What do you think you're doing?" Edward asked as I pulled a duffle out of my trunk. He had walked me over to where my car was parked when we got here this morning. Lucy and Masen were still asleep when we left his place, all evidence of our early morning work gone.

"I have some gym clothes in here. I know it won't be the most professional look, but – "

"You're going home," he demanded, frowning down at me.

"I'm going to work," I countered.

"Bella…"

"I like the distraction of working," I told him. Even though he already knew as much after all of my early morning confessions. I hadn't had enough time away from him to spiral out of control and regret everything I had told him.

Edward nodded, grabbing both my tote and gym bag out of my hands.

"I can carry things, you know."

"I'm aware."

I sighed, my eyes darting up to him every few steps we took. The building was usually empty this early, so thankfully there were no wandering eyes on my black and blue nose. I had a small makeup bag in my gym bag, and my first order of business was covering that mess.

Edward dropped my things in my office, but hesitated at the door. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes," I smiled softly. "Thank you."

Still, my question from earlier floated through my head. People caring so much about me wasn't something I was used to. I had Rose and I knew she cared, but it took me a good year to get to that conclusion. And she was stubborn and blunt and kind of forced me in to believing she cared.

I had been working for Edward for about a month. Half of that time we acted like we hated each other. And still, he dropped everything for me. Held my hand when I was hurt and believed every word I said this morning without a single doubt.

Mentally, I was still a mess from last night. It was like every one of my nightmares from the last four years came true, seeing Renee and her family show up here. Letting Tyler get to me again, leave another bruise on me.

That was probably confusing my judgement. Edward was a nice guy, there was no doubt about that. He was simply showing me some of that basic human decency I always knew he had. Nothing more.

I changed quickly in the restroom. The yoga leggings and t-shirt were hardly work attire, but I would just hide out in my office all day. It took me a good thirty minutes to conceal and cover and lock in the makeup around my nose. There was still some slight discoloration underneath it, but it was a lot more conspicuous than before.

**-B-**

The rest of the week passed without incident. Edward had torn down all of my carefully built walls again. My butterflies were constantly fluttering about. And I was pretty sure my crush had officially bypassed the pre-teen term of a _crush_. Just in time for us to spend a week together in New York City.

The night before, I sat on the floor of our living room with Rose as she painted my nails a milky pink. She had been furious the night I told her about what happened, but I think she was more hurt that I didn't call her right away. Thankfully, after a night of Chinese food and trashy television, I was forgiven.

My bruise didn't last too long or get too horrendous, either. There was still a slight shadow over my nose, but it didn't hurt much anymore. I iced it as much as possible, which seemed to help.

"So, any plans for tomorrow?" Rose asked, instructing me to blow on one hand while she worked on the other.

"Just work," I shrugged.

"You cannot go to the most exciting city in the country just to work, Bella. If I don't get a selfie of you on top of the Empire State building or walking across the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to be pissed."

I chuckled at her intensity. "I'll see what I can do."

"Are you nervous, going with Edward?" she asked quietly, her mood doing a complete one-eighty.

"I don't know," I sighed. I didn't know anything these days. I was stumped on what else to do to help Edward and his image, mostly because I was constantly distracted whenever he was around. And I had no idea how I felt about him anymore. Because he was more than a pretty face. So much more, and my butterflies were starting to realize it.

And I knew I was getting to the point where I had to do something about it. I couldn't help Edward if I was constantly pining after him, and that wasn't fair to him. I was just still in the process of figuring out what I could do about it. Pretending to hate him certainty didn't work.

"How did you get over a crush?"

Rose chuckled. "You're not going to want to do what I did."

"Why?"

"Because it usually involved falling in to bed with another guy. Works wonders, but I don't think it's something you should do."

"Oh," I mumbled. "Maybe… when I get back you can find me someone."

Rose's eyes went wide, and I realized I didn't specify myself very well.

"For a date! Just a date."

"Okay," she added with a smile. "That sounds like a good idea."

We were peacefully quiet for a few minutes before Rose spoke again. "You're sure you're okay? After what happened Monday?"

I nodded. "Yes, I'm fine."

And I was. I was surprisingly fine. More fine than I should have been. And I knew the reason for it had messy bronze hair and crooked smirks and was one of the only people in the world who believed everything I had to say.

**-B-**

"Have you ever been to New York?" Edward asked me. We were in a car, stuck in New York City traffic, on our way to our hotel for the week. The flight had been blissful compared to what it could have been flying commercial. We were quiet most of the time, but it was peaceful.

It was already nearing four, our flight and constant changing time zones having taken up most of the day. I should have been exhausted, but the energy surrounding the city was giving me a nice buzz.

"No," I sighed, eyes daring every which way out the window. It was like night and day compared to Los Angeles. More metal and less palm trees. A different, hectic energy. It felt like it would be exhausting to live here, but a trip every now and then might be nice.

We pulled up to our hotel a minute later, and I made a conscious effort to keep my mouth from falling open. The show took care of booking arrangements, and they were obviously trying to make Edward happy. When I confirmed the bookings a few days ago I looked up pictures of the two suits and they were… _a lot._ A lot of money, a lot of rooms, a lot of everything.

I had never really been out in public with Edward. He was a celebrity, obviously. Even without his show Cullen was a household name. Still, he seemed very normal in every situation we had been in. Even when he walked out to cheers on his show, it just seemed like _him_, and not some unattainable celebrity I was watching on screen.

It was a bit of a shock, seeing the couple of photographers waiting outside of the hotel and hearing them call out his name. He simply kept his head forward and kept walking, so I did the same.

Our suites were side by side, though the doors surprisingly far apart compared to a regular hotel. The Ritz Carlton was obviously not a regular hotel, though. Edward had the Presidential Suite and mine was the much more modest Premiere Park Suite.

Edward's door came first while mine was farther down the hall. I gave him a small smile as I passed him, heading to my own room.

"Would you like to go to dinner?" he asked quickly, his voice seemingly unsure of himself. It was odd, coming from him. "Before we head to the show?"

"Sure," I answered, a little shocked at his invitation. I wasn't sure what I had planned to do for dinner, but the show didn't start filming until nearly midnight.

"What's your favorite kind of food?"

"Um, I like Italian?" I replied, sounding too unsure of myself as well.

Edward smiled softly down the hall at me. "Okay. I'll pick you up at eight," he said with a wink, walking into his room

I walked into my suite, a little dazed and confused. It was stunning, though. All warm neutrals and stunning views. I walked over to one of the windows and took a quick picture of the view of Central Park to send to Rosalie. There was a comfortable living room, a dining room that I was sure would never get used, a small kitchenette, and a beautiful bedroom that made me wish I wasn't going to be up until two in the morning.

My bag was already set neatly on a table inside the bedroom. I knew this trip was going to be hard. Especially after my conversation with Edward earlier in the week.

My childhood wasn't something I enjoyed talking about. When I was in school I saw a school therapist for a couple years. It helped a little bit, I supposed. She believed everything I told her and even offered to help me go to the authorities about it, but I didn't want any of that. She drilled into my brain that I wasn't as inconsequential to the world as I was led to believe. That my opinions mattered and that my parents were wrong.

Still. Even after hearing it repeated to me for years, it was hard to forget how insignificant I felt for a good ten years of my life. And how much it hurt when no one believed a single word I said.

Then, Edward came along and listened with intent and worried eyes. And he took care of me even when I told him he didn't have to. He cared and listened and believed and was one of about three people in my life who had done any of those things.

It made my crush much more than a crush. And, now, I was going to dinner with him. Alone. In New York City. Which would make my butterflies ecstatic. And probably be a bit like torture for me.

**A/N: Little on the short side, but the next one will make up for it. I promise :) **

**Also, I got a **_**lovely**_** review from a guest basically saying what an idiot I am for putting the trigger warning in the last chapter at the bottom. There was, of course, a note at the **_**beginning**_** of the chapter urging anyone with triggers to scroll to the bottom for the warning before reading. That's how I typically do them, because the warnings can give away what the chapter is about. **

**Anyway. Thank you for all of your other kind reviews. I read and love every one of them. See you Friday!**


	9. Chapter 9

_This is gonna hurt, this is gonna hurt_

_Give it all we can, it'll never work_

_This is gonna hurt, this is gonna hurt_

_Beware of butterflies, they'll break your heart_

_~ Gabbie Hanna, __**Butterflies**_

**BPOV**

Sometimes, the whole girly thing was fun. I liked having pretty nails and perfectly curled hair and nice clothes. Sometimes I was horrible at picking things that matched or making sure my makeup was decent, but I could hold my own when getting ready. Usually.

There were always occasions where everything went to hell pretty fast. Like tonight when my hair was doing a weird swoosh thing in the back when I curled it, and how the thin eyeliner I was going for turned in to something else entirely before I started over.

Once I was done, I stared at myself in the full-length mirror in the most gorgeous bathroom I had ever been in. All creamy marble and lighted shelves and a shower I was now in love with.

It had taken me a good thirty minutes to decide on my outfit. I had more blazers than I knew what to do with, but this didn't really seem like a blazer kind of evening. I ended up in a soft black dress, floral lace layered over it. The neckline was a little deeper than I'd like, stopping dead center between my breasts, but the dress stopped mid-thigh which seemed okay. The sleeves were long with a pretty floral pattern going down my arm.

I slipped my feet into a pair of simple black flats because I wasn't sure how much walking we were going to do, and I didn't want to do any of it in heels. I was in the middle of a fight with the clasp on a necklace when there was a knock at the door.

I scampered over to open it quickly, not doing a very good job at covering up the soft gasp when I saw Edward there. It hadn't been more than a few hours since I last saw him, but he was kind of beautiful and it took my breath away for a moment.

His hair was a little damp and pushed back, though I was sure in an hour or so it would be its usual dry and messy self. He was in all black, a color I didn't see on him often. Not like this. The black button down was pressed perfectly and tucked in to a pair of black slacks. The sleeves were rolled up his arms. His face a little flushed, maybe from the shower, and his eyes bright and incredibly distracting.

"Hi," I mumbled, standing back so he could walk in. "I just need a minute."

I walked into the living room, Edward following, cursing to myself with the clasp behind my neck.

Edward chuckled, fingers suddenly grabbing the necklace behind my neck. "Here, let me," he offered, maneuvering around my pony tail and quickly fastening it without an issue.

"Thank you," I whispered, quickly grabbing the small black clutch. It was only big enough for my phone and lipstick.

Edward's face lit up when I turned back to him, eyes bright with humor and a smile taking up half of his face. "Never thought I'd see you go anywhere without that fifty-pound bag."

I frowned playfully at him as he held the door open for me. "It's not fifty pounds."

"It's pretty damn close."

I chuckled softly, getting into the elevator beside him. I couldn't really argue, because he was right.

As soon as the doors closed my entire body felt like a live, exposed wire. Edward stood no closer to me than he had on a number of occasions. It usually excited my butterflies, but this was different. This was like every muscle in my body was straining to touch him. To tell him how much he suddenly meant to me.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_.

He was a nice guy and I was an inexperienced child compared to him. His questions and concerns were nothing more than Edward showing he was a good person. He didn't do it because he felt an ounce of what I felt for him, and I needed to keep that in my mind if I was going to survive this week.

As soon as the doors opened I hopped out as fast as possible, taking a few deep breaths once we were out of such a confined space.

Once we were standing on the bustling street, Edward turned to me. "Are you okay with walking a few blocks?"

"Sure," I replied, rocking back and forth on my thankfully flat feet.

Edward smiled down at me and turned to the left. He kept his strides short, I noticed, probably keeping pace with me. My legs were shorter and I was a little distracted as we walked. By him and the city around me. And then the two men I noticed that were following us.

"They're bodyguards," Edward said softly.

"Oh. You don't usually have them."

"No. People don't really care all that much about me in Los Angeles. But, they're just a precaution here."

We were shown to a private room in the quaint little Italian restaurant once we got there. It was packed, but the small room off to the back was peaceful and quiet. Edward pulled my chair out for me and sat across from me with a smirk.

"Have you been here before?" I asked, scanning over the menu.

"No. A friend recommended it."

"You have friends?" I blurted out. I had been working with him a month and no one ever really visited him or his show, not besides family.

Thankfully, Edward chuckled at my word-vomit. "Yes. I'm having lunch with a few of them tomorrow, actually."

"Hmm," I sighed. Internally berating myself for wondering if any of the six were considered _friends_.

All afternoon I thought dinner would be awkward. I wasn't great at small talk, but Edward was. He could keep a conversation going with anyone, it was one of the things I found endearing about him. And confusing, considering his interviews were kind of like pulling teeth these days.

But, tonight, he kept a small smile on his face as he asked me about my time in college, seeming too interested in my lackluster time studying. His face lit up when I asked him about Masen and Lucy, pulling out his phone to show me pictures of them as they grew up.

They had come by the theater a few times since Monday. They were surprisingly sweet for a couple of sixteen-year-olds, but I was sure I only ever saw them on their best behavior. It was obvious they loved their dad, though. And that he was just as obsessed with them.

"Do you ever regret it?" I asked softly. I didn't want it to come across insensitive, but I was genuinely curious. "Having them so young?"

He could see right through my question, his eyes softening as he looked over at me. "I regret how things turned out sometimes, but I don't regret them. They've kept me sane and grounded and… myself for a long time."

I nodded, dropping my hands to my lap. My parents made no effort to keep their opinions about their early marriage a secret. They regretted getting married, and they regretted having something that forced them to remember it every day.

"Alice always loved fashion. She knew what she wanted to do with herself since she was about ten. Esme put me into acting classes around then, but I wasn't all that great," he said, playfully frowning at me when I chuckled. "I was always good with people, though. Never had any issues fitting in at school or public speaking. I was in the process of trying to figure out what I wanted to do when Irina came to me and said she was pregnant."

The mention of Irina ruined my good mood. I hadn't seen her since the NDA incident, but she still irked me. The whole situation was confusing, but I didn't really want to bring it up right now.

"Everything worked out pretty well, in the end," I added quietly. Edward seemed deep in thought, but I didn't want his mood ruined either.

He took a deep breath, eyes looking me up and down from across the table. "Yes, it did."

Edward stood, seemingly ready to go, but I frowned up at him.

"We didn't pay."

"I already did," he shrugged. "When you went to the restroom."

"Oh, well, I can –"

"I invited you to dinner, Bella. It's already done, anyway."

I frowned at him as I stood, but he just chuckled and led me out of the restaurant. I had money. Obviously, nowhere near as much as him. But enough to pay for my own dinner.

We opted for walking to Rockefeller Plaza instead of sitting in traffic. It was a nice, early summer night and I didn't mind the walk.

"I have a confession," I told Edward as we were getting close.

"What's that?"

"I've never seen a whole episode of Saturday Night Live."

Edward's head snapped over at me, eyes wide. "Never?"

"Nope," I shrugged. Truth was, the show didn't hold my interest.

Edward laughed, one of his big genuine laughs that made my chest hurt. "You are… a mystery, Bella."

I smiled up at him, realizing how much taller he really was than me. Usually I was in at least a smallish heel around him, if not something moderately tall. The top of my head probably barely reached his chin, though. I shook my head, clearing the thoughts that could quickly move to bad places.

Edward and I were ushered in quickly. It wasn't really typical practice for the next week's host to come by the week before, but I thought it might help Edward get in the right frame of mind.

There were a few shouts from audience members that recognized him as he walked in. He gave them a smile and a small wave before sitting in his seat.

I sat on the aisle seat beside him. We weren't in what I assumed was regular, guest seating in the stands. There were a couple smaller aisles right up front where they seated us.

The show was good. Funny, even. And I probably would have actually enjoyed it had I not spent the last two hours thinking about Edward's knee touching mine.

I stood nearly the moment we were allowed, attempting to hide the way my racing heart left me panting. Thankfully, someone came up to Edward immediately.

"Mr. Cullen, we're happy to have you here," the man said. I recognized him as the head writer of the show, Adam… something. My brain was still too fuzzy from sitting next to Edward for so long.

"Thanks for having me," Edward said, shaking his hand. "This is my publicist, Isabella Swan."

Adam smiled at me, shaking my hand as well. "Here to keep him out of trouble, I'm sure."

"Try to, at least," I added with a smile.

"There are a few people who'd like to meet you, if you have the time?" Adam asked.

Edward nodded and we followed him through tiny, bustling halls. I felt my phone ring in my bag as Adam showed Edward to a room with _Writers_ written outside.

"I'll wait out here," I told him, holding up my phone. I also knew from experience writers weren't the biggest fans of publicists.

I stood against the wall, hopefully out of anyone's way, and answered my phone after I saw Rosalie's picture on the screen.

"Hey," I sighed.

"How's it going?" she asked, excitement dripping in her voice.

"Good. Hectic, but good."

"Your room looks gorgeous. And that bathroom? Ugh."

I laughed, because those were nearly identical to my thoughts earlier. "Right?"

"Did you meet Bryan Drake? From that boy band?"

I rolled my eyes to myself. "No. I couldn't even pick that one out of a crowd if I tried."

The musical guest for the show had been some popular boy band. I knew my fair share about popular culture, because it was kind of my job, and I had heard of the band before. But they all looked identical to me. Same swoosh hair and ordinary voice. They were one in a dozen in Los Angeles.

"Maybe he can be your date!" Rose shouted, all too excited.

"Are you drunk?"

"No," she answered defensively. "I'm just glad you want to date now, and he's hot. And you're both probably in the same vicinity right now. And – "

"Yes, Bella, she's drunk," Emmett's voice boomed in my ear.

"I should go," I laughed, enjoying Rosalie's pouting over the phone.

I peeked my head in the door and saw Edward talking and laughing with a few people. Then, when I turned back around, there was a man standing in front of me. He was young, with that awful swoosh hair… Oh.

"Hey," he said softly. "I'm Bryan."

_What are the fucking odds?_ My inner voice cursed. Rosalie would be having a field day if she were still on the phone.

He was attractive, I supposed. And I was pretty sure he was around twenty, maybe twenty-one.

"Uh, Bella," I answered, holding out my hand for him. He had a surprisingly firm handshake.

"Do you work on the show?"

"Oh, no. I'm Edward Cullen's publicist. He's hosting next week."

"Ah, makes sense. I would have remembered seeing you around here this week."

Was he flirting with me? I wasn't sure. I was pretty confident no one had ever really flirted with me before.

I nodded, dropping my phone back in my purse just for something to do with myself.

"So, you're in town for the next week, then?"

"Um, yes."

"Me too," he said with a smile. "Maybe I can call you sometime, see if you're free?"

My instinct told me to say no. Obviously when I told Rose I wanted to date I didn't mean this random guy who probably had a mass of young girls pining after him. But, maybe it was a good first step. Getting out of my comfort zone.

I did my best to smile sweetly at him and pull out one of my business cards from my purse. "Sure."

"Are you ready to go?" Edward voice was harsh and surprisingly close. His hand landed on my back, butterflies immediately going every which way.

"Yeah," I sighed, trying to keep my head clear. "It was nice to meet you, Bryan."

"You too, Bella," he answered. I saw his eyes dart up to Edward, and he looked like he was going to say something, but instead backed away and finished his trek down the hall.

Edward's hand dropped from my back once he was gone, and our trip home wasn't nearly as enjoyable as the walk down had been. It was late, or early, so we hopped in a waiting car to drive us back to the hotel.

I kept to my side of the car and Edward kept to his. There were no more comforting conversations or playful jokes. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Edward's hands in fists, one in his lap and the other by his mouth as his elbow rested on the car armrest.

I wasn't sure what his sudden bad mood was about, but I knew it shouldn't make me as sad as it did. Maybe it would make the elevator ride up to our floor more bearable, though.

The elevator was somehow worse, our silence not as peaceful as the ride down and the tension heavier than before. I sighed as I walked out after Edward, who was making quick work getting to his door. Then, just as I was about to walk past him, he spoke.

"Do you know how fucking unfair this is?" he grunted, turning to face me, his door swinging open but not making a move to go in.

"How unfair what is?" I asked with a confused frown.

"_This_, Bella," he groaned, motioning between us. "Having to listen to that little punk ask you out without a second thought when…" He shook his head and didn't finish, even though I was dying for him to.

Edward tugged at his hair, a deep scowl on his face. Then he was in front of me, walking me backwards until my back hit the wall. Our bodies didn't touch, but I could feel his body heat and his breath against my ear as he leaned down.

"You're so fucking beautiful it hurts," he moaned, almost painfully, into my ear.

My head was spinning. My butterflies crazed in my stomach, though I wasn't sure if it was out of panic or excitement. Nothing he said made any sense, but it also kind of felt like all of the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. But it was like a jigsaw of a hundred different puzzles, so the picture was a complete mess.

He stared down at me and I knew I had lost the battle. I would lose a lot of things after tonight, but the green eyes and crooked smiles and conversations where he believed me were all worth it.

Edward had his eyes squeezed closed, but his entire body hovering over mine. His arms were braced on the wall behind me, though I could easily walk away if I wanted. And I understood the _so beautiful it hurts_ sentiment completely.

I stretched up on my toes slowly and pressed my lips to his as firmly as I dared, which wasn't all that firm at all. It was enough to know his lips were as soft as they were in my dreams, though.

It led to a pained groan coming from the back of Edward's throat. His hands were firm on my hips, then twirling me around and pushing me backwards until I was in his room.

The door slammed shut with a loud bang and then my back was against it. I didn't really have time to process anything other than Edward hovering over me again. This time, he didn't keep himself a safe distance away. I was pressed between the hard door and his warm body, could feel every inch of himself against me.

"Bella," he sighed, a hand coming up and cupping my cheek. His eyes were wide and bright, hopeful and maybe a little scared. The hand on my cheek snuck around to grasp the back of my head before his lips landed on mine again.

His kiss was the opposite of mine. Where I was soft and scared, he was firm and fearless. He had no shame, tugging on my bottom lip or biting down until I whimpered. There was no hesitation when his tongue met mine or when his hands squeezed my waist, pulling me impossibly closer.

My breath left me in a gasp when, a few minutes into the mind-numbingly perfect kiss, his hips pressed himself firmly against my lower abdomen. A few times he rubbed himself against me and it was as intimidating as it was arousing.

Up until ten minutes ago, my only romantic history had been an awkward five second kiss with Jacob Black. Now, I was left panting while Edward nibbled at my neck, his fingers dancing with the hem of my dress.

The movement was quick, his hands wrapped around my thighs and suddenly my legs were around his waist. I steadied myself with my hands on his shoulders, my head falling back when his lips pressed kisses into the exposed skin of my chest.

I tossed my clutch behind him, hoping it landed safely somewhere but not really caring either. He started walking then, at the same time his hands slid up my thighs, underneath my dress, to get a firm grip on my ass as he went.

I squeezed my eyes shut, burying my hands in his hair and vaguely congratulating myself for being right about how soft it was. Pulling his lips back to mine, it felt like my butterflies had finally exploded free from my chest and I wanted to cry in relief.

It took me a moment to orient myself when Edward tossed me in the middle of a soft, fluffy bed. I watched, panting, as he hastily unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside. His eyes not bothering to hide the way they trailed over my body. So, I let myself do the same. My fingers itched to run along his chest and appreciate every toned muscle I could see.

It was when he was on me then, his hips situated perfectly between my legs and his tongue doing wonderful things to my neck that everything became very real.

"I've never had sex," I gasped, cringing slightly at my own words.

Edward froze, his head rising slowly from its spot in the crook of my neck. His eyes were probably as wide as mine, and his breath coming out just as fast.

"I just, um, thought you should know," I mumbled, embarrassed at the way his eyes studied me.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, his voice rough and with a hint of sadness.

"No," I gasped quickly, burying one hand in the hair at his neck and trailing the other down his gloriously bare back. His skin was warm and soft and made my head fuzzy just thinking about it. I pressed my lips to his, harder than my first attempt, and got a rewarding groan out of it. "No."

My wandering hands eventually ended up at his waist and before I could talk myself out of it I let one of my hands rub against _him._ His length. Cock. Whatever the correct, least-cringy word for it was.

I got another wonderful groan out of the movement. It was a sound I wanted to get to hear as many times as I could.

Edward lifted his head just a few inches away from mine. A new smirk on his face, crooked and conniving. His eyes were bright and excited, maybe more so than even a minute ago. "Oh, baby. You have no idea," he whispered against my cheek. With a gentle hand he turned my chin up, pressing kisses down my throat to where my neck met my collarbone.

"No idea how good I can make you feel," he added right before his teeth sank into my neck.

My answering moan was probably more of a high-pitched whine. The action made my entire body tense, including the hand still on Edward's length. He must have liked the pressure, though, because he pressed himself further into my hand as a result.

His body was gone a moment later, and he pulled me by my legs down to the edge of the bed. My legs dangled over the edge and he stood right in front of me. It gave me a wonderful view of his sculpted chest I had wanted to explore earlier.

With tentative hands, I ran them along his pecs and down to the defined abs I had no idea were hiding under his suits each night.

"You'll have your turn to explore," Edward said softly, grabbing ahold of both my hands and placing a soft kiss on each of my wrists. "Tonight, is my turn."

He pulled me to my feet just long enough to get my dress over my head and across the room on the floor. Edward took a step back, warm hands on my waist, and let his eyes drift slowly up and down my body.

I could list about a hundred things I disliked about my body on a daily basis. But right then, standing in front of Edward in nothing more than a pair of black lace panties, that list was nowhere to be found.

He groaned, again it was almost a pained sound, and tightened his hands around my waist. "Fucking breathtaking."

Edward eased me back down on the bed, and I scooted back until my head hit a fluffy pillow. He tossed something on the bed beside me, I didn't bother getting distracted by it because he was on top of me again a moment later.

The skin to skin contact was heavenly. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, hands freely roaming the expanse of his muscles along his back even though it wasn't 'my turn' yet.

His left hand came up to cup my cheek as he looked down at me. As much as I hated the distraction, the cool band around his ring finger felt like it was burning into my skin.

I pulled away from his kiss and grabbed his hand. Barely resisting the urge to toss the ring across the room, I let it clatter to the bedside table instead.

Edward's lips landed back on mine with more fervor, taking all of my conscious thought with it. I vaguely felt his hands in my hair, pulling the tie out of it that held my hair back all night. His hands were soft and gentle as they ran down my neck and across my collarbone, drawing random patterns in my skin with his fingers until his palm firmly cupped my breast.

I gasped into his kiss, squeezing my eyes shut when he pinched my nipple gently between two fingers. I whimpered when his lips disappeared from mine, but a moment later they were peppering kisses around my other breasts. Tormenting me for God only knows how long until his lips wrapped around my nipple.

"God, your skin tastes good," he groaned quietly, soft enough I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear it. His lips and tongue explored every inch of my chest they could from the swell of each breast to the valley between them. Every squeeze, lick, bite, it was all exquisite torture. I was simultaneously frustrated and thrilled when he abandoned his ministrations and moved further down my abdomen.

"Oh, butterflies, butterflies, butterflies," I mumbled to myself. They were oh, so happy to finally be up close and personal with Edward as he covered my abdomen in kisses and licks and the occasional bite.

My eyes followed his messy head of copper hair as he made his way down my body. His head popped up and his eyes met mine just as he nipped at the skin right below my navel. Soft hands pulled the lace around my hips down my legs, quickly flicking my flats off of my feet as they went.

As his hands trailed back up my legs, kisses following closely behind, I tensed. It didn't matter how many times I woke up from dreams of this exact scenario. It was still foreign and confusing and a little daunting.

"Hey," Edward coaxed softly. He was back at eye level with me, shimmery jade eyes looking at me with concern. "No more thinking," he said, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "No more worrying." Another kiss to my other cheek. "I've got you. Okay?" Another kiss to my nose.

No more thinking. No more worrying. Both things I tended to overdo.

"Okay," I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. His lips were warm and swollen and delicious.

Edward used my distraction to his advantage, pressing his tongue firmly against mine at the same moment one of his hands drifted between my legs.

I gasped into his kiss, but it quickly turned into a moan when his thumb pressed firmly into my clitoris.

_No more thinking. No more worrying._

I buried my head in Edward's shoulder, gasping quietly against him when one of his fingers slid easily inside me.

Edward's finger moved slowly in and out and I could feel him smirk against my neck. "I've been thinking about what you would taste like for weeks," he groaned, biting at my earlobe before making the same trail down my body he did minutes earlier. He was quicker this time, and I no longer tensed when he settled between my legs.

I let out a frustrated sigh when his finger disappeared so his arms could wrap around my thighs. A shot of embarrassment went through me as he spread my legs but it disappeared quickly when he pressed a gentle kiss to my center.

My deep moan at the movement must have been all of the encouragement he needed. His hands tightened around my legs and his tongue did wonderfully toe-curling things to me.

When I moaned his name, he cursed against me. His eyes stared up at me from between my legs and all embarrassment was a distant memory. All I cared about were dark eyes and soft tongues and deep fingers that made my mind go blank.

My hands buried themselves in his hair on their own accord, my eyes rolling back into my head. A brilliant pressure was building throughout my body. More intense and all-consuming than anything I had ever felt.

"Edward," I moaned, hands gripping his hair tight. I saw a flash of his eyes coming back up to look at me before the pressure snapped. My back arched and my eyes squeezed shut, sounds I didn't even know I could make filling the room.

I was left shivering on the bed a few minutes later, Edward standing at the foot of it and staring over me. The click of his belt coming undone made my stomach tense. I swallowed thickly as his slacks and boxer briefs were discarded quickly.

Obviously, I had never seen a man naked in person. Rarely saw them in any other form, either, so I didn't really have any kind of way to judge Edward and his size, other than that I was quite small and he… was not.

"I don't really know anything other than the, uh, mechanics of it all but I don't really think that's going to fit," I babbled, even when my butterflies fluttered around in excitement watching Edward wrap a firm fist around himself, eyes never leaving me as he touched himself.

He smirked at me, that crooked one that I didn't see often but loved. He reached beside me, for the forgotten object he tossed on the bed earlier.

I watched, fascinated by his every move, as he tore open a foil packed and rolled the condom on himself.

He was on top of me again, completely skin to skin. His hands roamed for a minute and his lips pressed soft kisses to mine. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he told me, forehead pressed against mine.

As apprehensive as I was about the whole thing, those were normal nerves. The kind of nerves that came with knowing pain was imminent. I was no longer nervous to lean up and press my lips firmly to his, even with the taste of myself still on his lips. I had no qualms about running my fingers through his hair or down his back.

My butterflies were happily floating around, still high from my orgasm.

Edward adjusted himself, his fingers back inside me and his cock resting heavily against my thigh. "Are you sure?" he grunted, though I was past the point of no return.

For every ounce of nervous energy running through me there was an equal amount of excitement and need and desire. I nodded, smiling softly up at him and his crazy hair and wild eyes and swollen lips.

His fingers were replaced by the head of his cock and even with my internal pep talk I still tensed up. "You've got to relax, baby," he sighed, squeezing my hip gently. "Or it _won't_ fit."

I chuckled at him throwing my own words back at me but it was quickly lost in a passionate kiss. The kind that made me forget my own name and that I should have been nervous. My breath started coming more quickly with every new inch of him inside me.

I let out a cry after a quick thrust of his hips. He stilled, kisses peppered all over my face. I couldn't decide whether to focus on the slightly uncomfortable way my body stretched around him or the still-sharp sting of pain or the whispered apology in my ear.

"I'm okay," I whispered after a few minutes of adjusting.

Another distracting kiss was pressed to my lips as he pressed himself further inside of me until his hips were flush against mine. It was odd and foreign but kind of amazing because I got to watch Edward's eyes squeeze shut and pleasure flash across his face.

"I'm good," I muttered, pressing kisses to his tense jaw. He was holding back for me, which I appreciated, but I also knew his actions from earlier were to give me my release before the pain and discomfort.

"Fuck, Bella," he groaned, burying his head in my shoulder as he began to move. His groans and grunts and curses made me feel immensely proud that I caused them. With every one of his thrusts my body got more used to him and I relaxed against the bed.

His hips started a new, disjointed rhythm and Edward pressed a sloppy kiss to my lips as he seemed to grunt out his release.

After a few minutes of us both catching our breath Edward rolled to the side. I was exhausted now, physically and mentally, and my eyelids were getting too heavy to stay open. I mumbled an objection when I felt Edward get up from the bed. He was back a moment later and situated us underneath the warm comforter.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

The best I could manage was a nod before my eyes closed.

**A/N: ;) **

**Updates next week will be Tuesday/Friday again thanks to a bout of food poisoning putting me way behind schedule. See you then!**


	10. Chapter 10

**BPOV**

I was never great at the whole sleeping thing. My mind was always too busy worrying about something to ever turn off quickly, and I tended to wake up after a few hours with something new to stress about. When I was younger I didn't sleep because I cried a lot at night, it was the only time I knew my parents or _siblings_ wouldn't walk in on me and tell me I was overreacting. Then, in college, it was school work or working at the library or finally spilling my guts to Rosalie that kept me from sleeping. Whatever it was, during whatever phase of my life, I never got much sleep.

This morning, though, my body woke up slowly. I stretched out on the impossibly comfortable bed, burying my head in the soft pillows with a sigh. A shower ran in the distance, the sound like rain lulling me into a half-sleep again. I was comfortable and content and when I remembered why I was so happy the feeling quickly vanished.

My head spun for a moment after sitting up too fast. My eyes fell to the clock on the bedside table that read ten to eleven. I wasn't sure I had ever slept until eleven, but now was hardly the time to congratulate myself for it.

I was clutching the soft comforter to my chest when the door to the right, the bathroom, probably, opened. Edward walked out, towel around his waist and a soft smile on his lips. His hair was wet, which made it look more brown than bronze. And he was more beautiful than I remembered, which was entirely unfair.

"Um, hi," I stuttered, tucking my messy hair behind my ear. I kept my eyes on the bed in an attempt to not stare at him, but that just made memories of him in the bed with me last night float through my head.

"Hi," he greeted, his voice sounding delightfully smooth and familiar. I heard soft footsteps come over to my side of the bed. A warm hand lifted my chin so I was looking up at him.

Edward's eyes softened, turning almost sad. "You don't have to look so scared."

"I'm not scared," I said defensively. "I'm stupid. And unprofessional. And stupid again. And – "

"No, you're not," Edward interrupted, his voice stern. He sighed heavily and ran a hand roughly through his hair. After a moment he sat carefully at the foot of the bed across from me.

"Do you regret it?" he asked quietly. "Looking past the fact that you're my publicist and that, on paper, I'm married. Do you regret it?"

"That's a lot to look past," I mumbled.

"I know," he sighed. "But, try."

My answer was immediate. "No."

After all of the butterflies and odd glances and tears shed over him, I couldn't regret it. I should have, I knew that, but I didn't.

My new favorite crooked smile graced his face. "I don't, either."

I sighed, happiness starting to seep through my confusion and clutched the comforter closer to myself. "There's still so many…"

"When was the last time you were able to enjoy yourself, Bella? Not worry about… those _people_ or school or work and just be yourself?"

His questions took me aback and I frowned at him.

"I don't mean it as an insult," he added quickly. "I do the same thing. Focus on making everyone else happy instead of myself. Get too wrapped up in other things to even act like myself."

I was still confused. "What does that have to do with this?"

"I enjoy you," Edward admitted with a soft smile. "And I think you enjoy me."

I very nearly snorted at that. He had no idea. About my butterflies or hopeless pining basically since the moment I met him. Thankfully, instead of a snort, I managed a small nod.

"And you're not just saying that because you think you're out of a job if you don't, right? Because you know I wouldn't – "

"I know," I assured him quickly. There wasn't a manipulative bone in Edward's body. I knew this whole thing wasn't some power play or threat.

It was stupid. So, so stupid I couldn't believe I had let it happen. It was a great way to lose my job and ruin any future of a career I might have. But, Edward was right. Nothing I ever did was for my own enjoyment, nothing big at least. I didn't go on vacations or take time off to relax. I worked until I forgot my own problems.

Maybe it was time for me to enjoy myself for once. Be selfish and irresponsible. Because as much as I hated my butterflies the last few weeks, sometimes they were the only good part of my days.

Here, the source of my butterflies was offering himself up on a silver platter. A stupid, going-to-blow-up-in-our-faces-eventually platter. But, I had no choice but to smile at him.

"Already you seem to be thinking too much," he said with a playful smirk, he words bringing back a very vivid memory of hours earlier.

"_No more thinking," he said, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "No more worrying." Another kiss to my other cheek. "I've got you. Okay?" Another kiss to my nose._

If not thinking too much led to any amount of time with Edward Cullen, it was worth it.

I leaned toward him, quickly pressing my lips softly to his. Because, with this odd arrangement we seemed to be making, I could.

As soon as my lips were on his, Edward knotted his fingers in my hair to keep me in place. Making the kiss much more exciting than I intended it to be. Maybe it was naïve of me, but I always thought it would be kind of weird to have someone else's tongue in my mouth. I was sorely mistaken about that.

I ended up on my back, a slightly damp Edward on top of me. My hands knotted in his wet hair and my mind quickly turning to mush.

Vibrating from the bedside table caught our attention.

"Fuckers," Edward mumbled, getting up and touching his phone until it stopped. "I've tried to cancel this lunch four times and no one seems to want to let me."

"Oh, don't cancel because of me," I said quickly. I didn't want to ruin his plans. "I should get out of your way. I have some work to do and I…"

My hesitation made Edward frown. It would be a lot easier to talk if he wasn't standing in front of me in a towel that did little to hide his arousal.

"I'm just a little, uh, sore," I mumbled, squirming under his bright eyes and cocky smirk.

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. Before he turned around, he tapped the table beside me lightly.

My eyes dropped and sitting beside me were two Tylenol and a glass of water. The gesture, the fact that he had thought ahead and put them there for me just in case, made my butterflies swirl around for a moment.

I swallowed them quickly, averting my eyes as Edward dropped his towel as he stood in front of the closet. My eyes searched the room for any hint of where my own clothing might be.

"I hung your dress in the bathroom," Edward told me, smirking over at me as he buttoned up a pair of jeans.

"Oh, thank you."

I frowned at the space between myself and the bathroom. I pulled the large king-sized sheet with me, careful to keep it wrapped securely around me.

"What are you doing?" Edward chuckled from the closet.

I turned to face him, only slightly disappointed that his chest was now covered by a crisp, white button down.

"Going to get dressed," I answered matter-of-factly.

"And you're going to take the bed with you?"

"I'm naked."

"Oh, I know," he smirked. This one was different though. More menacing as his eyes looked me up and down.

I huffed softly, tugging my sheet along behind me to the bathroom. My dress was, thankfully, hanging on the back of the door. I slid into it quickly, forcing myself not to get distracted by memories of it getting taken off the night before. I actively ignored the giant mirror, knowing I would look more than a little rough.

My shoes were on the floor beneath my dress and I slid them on quickly before grabbing the sheet and walking out. Edward wasn't in the bedroom, but I dropped the sheet on the bed and wandered out to the main living area.

Edward was standing by the door, pocketing his wallet when I walked in. His suite was at least double the size of mine. In order to even get to the entryway, I had to walk through a spacious living room and a small office.

I frowned, looking around. "I had a clutch."

Edward smirked, pulling my bag off of the table behind him. "It ended up under the coffee table."

I felt my cheeks heat immediately and quickly snatched it out of his hands. "Thank you."

"Your underwear is also still in the pocket of my slacks from last night."

I looked up at him with wide, exasperated eyes. He smiled back at me. I was pretty sure I had never seen him smile as much as I had in the last twenty-four hours.

"You're cute when you're flustered," he admitted. Edward leaned and pressed a kiss right below my ear. "I hope you feel better soon," he whispered, one of his hands sliding down my waist.

I cleared my throat. "I should, uh, go."

Edward nodded with a chuckle. "Me too. I'll see you this afternoon?"

I nodded and left quickly after a peek down the hall.

**-B-**

I sat in the tiny living room of my suite for about an hour once I got back. Thinking. Remembering. Wondering how it was I ended up in some odd employee-with-benefits relationship with Edward.

_No more thinking. No more worrying. I've got you._

It was easier said than done. But, somehow, even with this odd arrangement, a constant flow of happiness coursed through my veins. Sure, it probably made me naïve and stupid, but I was. Happy. And confused, but mostly happy.

So, I was going to do what Edward suggested and enjoy myself for once. Hell, even Rosalie suggested it a few weeks ago.

"No more thinking," I mumbled to myself, standing from the couch and heading into the bedroom. "No more worrying."

I changed into a matching navy-blue legging and sports bra set. After catching sight of myself in the mirror I washed my face thoroughly and pulled my hair back in a pony tail.

There was a gym in the basement of the hotel, though basement implied it to be dark and dreary when in reality it rivaled Emmett's gym back in Los Angeles.

I needed a clear head before I could get any work done. As it was, my mind was currently full of very distracting memories. And the soreness between my legs had started to fade, so a run sounded like a great distraction.

_"You're so fucking beautiful it hurts."_

_ "Oh, baby. You have no idea… no idea how good I can make you feel."_

_ "God, your skin tastes good."_

A sudden wave of self-doubt washed over me. This man was fun and delightfully witty and unbearably sexy. I was awkward and inexperienced and not worth his time.

But, I wanted him. With every fiber of my being I wanted to be the one who got his smirks and smiles and kisses and whatever else he would give me. I had tried a lot of things to get over the want for those things, for him, and none of them worked.

I knew this arrangement was likely to end in getting myself hurt, but maybe it was the only option I had. Maybe there was a small chance that it would get him out of my system. After enough time with him being tentatively mine, maybe the butterflies would flutter away for good.

The thought made me frown, because I had grown to like the little buggers. They were comforting and frustrating but made me feel excited and alive. Maybe I would get them again someday, once I was over Edward, with someone else.

For now, I didn't really have a choice but to give them what they wanted. Because I wanted it too. And I could so easily have it, even if it was a stupid choice.

Edward made it so simple this morning. _I enjoy you. You enjoy me._ And I trusted him enough to know he would never hold this odd relationship over my head or blackmail me or anything like that.

He had hit the nail on the head when he said I never really did anything for myself. Rosalie's words from the night I told her about my butterflies floated through my mind. _You're twenty-two. You have a body girls would kill for. Have some fun instead of working twenty-four-seven, Bella._

Maybe I just needed to… get over myself and enjoy things for once. I had a gorgeous man offering himself up to me and I couldn't even enjoy it.

After a four-mile run I had decided to officially live by Edward's words to me earlier. _No more thinking. No more worrying. _Sort of. I picked up my room key and phone, grabbing a water bottle from the small fridge provided before leaving the gym.

Looking at my phone I groaned, not quite sure how it was already almost three in the afternoon.

**What are you doing?**

The text from Edward made my slowing heartrate pick back up. I got in the elevator, hitting the button for the twenty-first floor and stared down at my phone. My inexperience was frustrating to myself, because my mind suddenly had no idea how to respond.

The doors opened, entirely too soon for it to be the twenty-first floor. I looked up from my phone to see Edward standing in the lobby, smirking into the elevator.

_ So much for clearing my head_, I thought, watching as he stepped in the elevator holding a plastic drug store bag.

"Hi," I sighed through the appearance of a kaleidoscope of butterflies.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, eyes not bothering to hide the way they looked me up and down in the mirrored elevator doors once they closed.

"Better, thank you."

Edward hummed his response.

I opened my water bottle, simply for something to do. Ever since I had met him, I had never felt quite so awkward and tense around Edward. Now, he was staring at me and I was staring at him wanting… something but not really knowing what it was or what to say or what to do.

"What did you get?" I asked, nodding at the bag and taking a gulp of water.

Edward shrugged. "Condoms."

My water nearly came out of my nose as I choked it down. I coughed out an incredulous laugh.

"And this, for you. To keep your energy up," he added with a smirk, tossing a bottle of dark blue Gatorade at me.

I caught it quickly, pushing down another wave of self-doubt. I could convince myself to go along with this arrangement all day, but it still didn't answer the question of why Edward wanted me in the first place.

"You're a funny, funny man," I sighed, smiling over at him.

"I try. The condoms weren't a joke, though," he added with a shrug.

My cheeks burned and I stared at the little screen at the top of the elevator, the number of floors going up slowly. _Eight more to go._

It constantly confused me, how I could so easily talk to Edward when I couldn't think of a single thing to say to most people. Right now, though, the elevator was quiet and tense and uncomfortable.

Then I saw Edward attempt to subtly adjust himself in his jeans and realized how stupid I really was. _Sexual tension. Not uncomfortable tension._

The thought brought a bright smile to my face. No one had ever wanted me before and this whole thing was as exciting as it was stupid.

"Is my discomfort amusing to you?" Edward asked, though his tone was light.

The doors opened and I shrugged, smirking over at him as I took a step out. "Kind of."

I walked a few paces in front of him down the hall, making sure to swing my hips more than usual as I went. Once Edward stopped at his door I turned and smiled, holding up the drink he tossed at me earlier.

"Thanks for the Gatorade."

**-B-**

After a quick shower I ended up in my now-coveted _Tonight Show with Edward Cullen_ t-shirt and a pair of leggings. I had settled myself on the comfortable couch in the living room to get some work done. It was Sunday so there really wasn't all that much for me to do besides some damage control on my inbox. I had other plans in the works, but I knew I was too distracted to give those any thought right now.

I smiled to myself as I took my last sip of the drink Edward got me and quickly texted him a picture of the empty bottle. My phone rang immediately after, Rosalie's picture popping up on the screen.

Seeing her picture made me suddenly desperate to talk to her. About everything that I couldn't.

"Hey," I sighed, answering quickly.

"I was told I have to apologize for drunk dialing you last night," Rosalie sighed, bypassing a greeting all together.

"You don't have to apologize," I chuckled. "It'll be enough torture for you to know that right after I hung up, Bryan Drake came up to talk to me."

"No!" Rose gasped dramatically.

"His hair is extra swooshy in person."

"_This_ is why you become a publicist."

"Trust me, that guy is not your type." Just because I never dated, didn't mean I wasn't an expert in Rosalie's history. I always told her I was the least qualified person to ever give her relationship advice, but she countered that I was the best because I wasn't aware of all the mind games that went into dating. I had an unbiased opinion on what exactly a winky face in a text message meant, apparently.

"Besides, you seem kind of blissfully happy with Emmett."

"I am," she sighed dreamily. "Too happy, I think."

"Too happy? I don't know if that's a thing."

"The other shoe has to drop, right? He's too perfect."

"No relationship is perfect all of the time. But if he's perfect for you the not-perfect times are worth it."

There was a knock at my door and my heartrate picked up.

"Rose I have to go. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Bella," she sighed, though she seemed better than a minute ago.

I opened the door without bothering to look through the peephole. My smile was instant when I saw Edward standing there, arms full of bags and a bottle of wine. I grabbed the bottle from him to lighten his load and stood back so he could come in quickly.

I was about to say… something. A greeting or question what was in all of his bags, something along those lines. Then I looked up at him and his darkening expression as he took in my outfit.

"Nice shirt," he mused, eyes ending up on mine.

"Thank you," I mumbled, feeling the same tension from the elevator invade the room. "What is all of this?" I asked for a distraction.

Edward smiled over at me. "Dinner."

It was much more than dinner. Once we had all of the contents of his bags spread out on the coffee table in the living room, it was enough to feed at least ten people. There was probably one of everything off of a Chinese takeout menu. Then the entire contents of a junk food aisle at a grocery store. Everything from cookies to marshmallows to every kind of candy imaginable.

We ended up on the couch, sitting cross legged on either side facing each other. I twirled my plastic fork through my lo mein and watched as Edward did the same.

"How long have you had the shirt?" he asked out of the blue.

I smiled across the couch at him. "My roommate got it for me as a joke right when I got assigned to you."

"Your roommate…"

"Rosalie."

When I put on my _Tonight Show with Edward Cullen_ t-shirt this afternoon, I didn't realize it would eventually lead to twenty questions with the man himself. He asked me everything from my favorite classes in college to my favorite color. My blush had to have given me away when I answered the latter as green, but Edward didn't say anything about it.

Edward was spread along the couch, legs propped up on the coffee table as he pestered me about college. He had my phone in his hands, because he decided my taste in music needed expanding. His questioning didn't stop as he worked on a playlist, though.

"Were you in a sorority?"

I scoffed, tossing a marshmallow at him. "Do I seem like a sorority kind of girl?"

"No, I suppose not," he relented, tossing the marshmallow back at me before looking back at my phone. He slid it across the table back to me when he was done.

The night had been full of odd, random questions like that. I got some new information myself, too. I found out he went to lunch with some friends from high school who lived in the city now. There was Sam who was currently performing on Broadway and Seth who was a painter. Not the struggling-to-make-ends-meet kind of painter, either. The one who could draw a black line on a canvas and make more money than I had ever had in my account in a minute.

His entire face lit up when I asked about Masen and Lucy. It always did, and it was possibly one of my favorite things about him. He told me stories of terrible two's with twins and dreaded teenage years.

"I had to tell my son he couldn't ask you out after the first time you came to the house," Edward admitted.

I cringed and a mumbled "Ew," escaped out of my mouth.

Edward's eyes fell to me, suddenly serious. "He's closer to your age than I am."

"Yeah, but he's also _under_age. When he and Lucy accosted me at my gym I was worried I was going to get arrested for kidnapping."

Edward tossed his head back with a laugh. This wasn't at all how I thought the day would go. Things could have been awkward and tense. Or he could have come over and taken me straight to bed and I would have gone all too willingly.

Instead, he came over with food and snacks and asked me every possible question he could about myself. He was probably just being polite, easing me into things.

As they had all day, the slightest thought about last night sent flashes of it through my head. Images of a copper head of hair between my thighs and hands on my breasts distracted me. My butterflies swarmed my chest when I looked over at Edward and I realized, for the first time, I could give them what they wanted immediately.

I didn't have to sit here and feel them fly about all frustrated and needy. They had a new desire now, something they didn't even know they were missing out on until today.

Before I could lose my bravery, I threw myself across the couch, crashing into Edward's chest and burying my hands in his hair. His response was immediate, tugging me by my waist until I was situated and straddling his lap.

I might have initiated things, but as soon as Edward recovered from his shock he was the one in control. Firm hands on my hips and his teeth biting at my lips.

"Finally," he sighed, tugging my hair out of my pony tail.

I pulled away, panting with a frown.

"I wanted to make sure you wanted it as much as I did," he explained, grabbing my hips and pulling me sharply against his hard length.

"Oh," I mumbled, distracted by the way he kissed along my jaw. I buried my face in his neck, tentatively rolling my hips against him. The action sent a shot of pleasure through my veins, and gave me a rewarding groan from Edward beneath me.

I tugged on the first few buttons of his white button down, my hands burning into the newly exposed skin. I pulled away from him, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. "Is it my turn now?"

I got a confused frown in response. "You said I would get a turn. To explore."

The moment was engrained in my mind. The whole night, really. Especially promises that I would get my chance to explore every inch of him.

Realization dawned in his eyes, a devious smirk spreading across his face. Edward quickly shrugged out of his shirt before rearranging us so he was lying on the couch beneath me.

"Your turn," he said smoothly, eyes burning up into me and making me blush. I didn't want to be distracted, though, so I kept my eyes away from his and on the sight in front of me.

The sun was just starting to set outside, and with the few lights still on in the room I had a much better view than last night in nearly complete darkness. I swallowed thickly as I scooted back on his lap, not wanting to obstruct any part of my view. Of course, that meant I was now perfectly situated on the hard length that intimidated the hell out of me.

My hands pressed gently into his abdomen, running up over his pecs to his shoulders and not stopping until I ended up squeezing his biceps. He was kind of perfectly made. Not too bulky but not at all scrawny.

Shirtless men were around every corner in Los Angeles whether they were fit or… not so fit. They never had an effect on me, though, other than earning an eye roll. Edward, though, he made my fingers itch to touch him.

My hands followed the same path they had just made, back to the spot where his jeans rested around his waist. I leaned down and pressed my lips softly to the skin below his navel. I didn't expect a new, primal desire to course through my veins at the contact.

Without over thinking every movement, my hands and lips and tongue traced patterns along his abdomen. Across the well-defined muscles and up even farther. When I ran my tongue lightly over his deep pink nipple he grunted out a curse. It made me smile against his warm skin.

I took my time exploring. Partly because I was genuinely curious and partly because I liked watching and hearing his reactions. I got mumbled curses whenever I ran my tongue along his nipples. Deep groans when my hands traced the space right below his navel. Gentle sighs whenever I traced patterns with my fingers over the center of his chest.

His patience was wearing thin. Especially when I kissed my way up his neck, eager for another kiss. His hands had been fairly complacent on my hips, keeping me steady and letting me have my fun.

As soon as I pressed a kiss to his lips, they slid up my hips, underneath my t-shirt, making their way quickly to my breasts. I swallowed his grunted curse when he was met with skin instead of fabric.

I whimpered against his lips at the sharp pinch against my nipples. It was entirely too distracting, and I wanted to take advantage of the moment.

"I'm not done," I whispered, sitting up and gently pulling his arms out from underneath my shirt. I got a raised brow from Edward and took a chance and wiggled my hips from side to side on top of him.

"Bella," he groaned, almost in warning.

I smirked down at him, letting my hands make one more pass down his chest before I slid back on his thighs. I could feel his eyes on me, but I knew I couldn't look up without getting distracted by them. Instead I focused on the task at hand and undid his belt and jeans.

They were already riding low on his hips, so I only had to pull them down a few inches before I had the complete view of it. Him. I had been hoping I had overreacted last night, that he wasn't as intimidatingly big as I had thought.

Apparently, I hadn't overreacted. I bit my bottom lip, head cocked to the side as I stared at him and tried to figure out how it fit inside me in the first place.

Before I could stop myself I wrapped my hand carefully around him, my fingers just barely touching. He was heavy and hard and I suddenly had no idea what I was doing.

Edward took pity on me, his hand joining mine. He wrapped his hand around mine, squeezing harder than I ever would have done on my own.

My eyes stayed on our hands, moving up and down over him, but I could feel Edward's eyes on me. I leaned forward, only a bit, when Edward pulled my hand off of him and sat up.

"As many times as I've thought about your lips wrapped around my cock… not tonight," he groaned, teeth nipping at my neck.

"You… you've thought about that?" I asked, gasping when he found an especially sensitive spot right behind my ear.

"Oh, baby. I've thought about everything."

Edward took advantage of my shock, standing quickly and taking me with him. It only took him a few long strides to make it to the bedroom. He deposited me on the bed, immediately covering my body with his.

With no hesitation, one of his hands snuck into my leggings and we both let out matching groans. My hips thrust up against his hand on their own accord and I felt Edward smile against my neck at the action.

"Love how responsive you are," he groaned into my neck.

He kissed his way down my chest, over my t-shirt, simultaneously sliding two fingers inside of me. I could focus more this time; think about the pleasure instead of the unknowns. It made everything _more_.

I gasped when he bit playfully at my nipples through the thin material on his way down my body. Edward pulled my leggings down my legs quickly, taking the cotton panties I was wearing with them.

He stood at the foot of the bed, his jeans hanging off of his hips, and stared down at me. My only clothing left was my t-shirt, but he seemed to enjoy it. I watched his every move; from his hand digging a condom out of his pocket to him roughly discarding his last traces of clothing.

Edward knelt on the bed beside me, his hand immediately pushing my legs apart. Two fingers slid inside me easily, his thumb rubbing firm circles into my clit.

I gasped beneath him, staring up at him beside me. He suddenly seemed much more menacing than I knew him to be, hovering over me with dark, greedy eyes.

"I want you to come on my cock this time," he grunted, his fingers starting a harsh rhythm. "So, I need you nice and ready for me."

I moaned, at the feel of his rough hand and his words. I whimpered his name over and over, my toes curling.

"Open this," he demanded, handing a gold foil packet to me. His eyes were still on his hand, the one torturing me.

My hand shook and I repeatedly got distracted from what I was supposed to be doing until I finally ripped the packet with my teeth. My breathing got loud and mixed with a constant stream of moans.

"Put it on," he growled.

His fingers slowed down enough for me to focus on what he asked and remember the embarrassing sex ed class I took in high school. As soon as I was done, though, he sped up again.

"Edward," I whimpered.

"I know, baby," he sighed, his fingers disappearing.

I kept my eyes on him, watching the way the muscles in his arms tensed as he maneuvered my legs and how his eyes, nearly black now, seemed glued to the spot where his fingers just disappeared from.

Edward knelt between my legs, lifting me and my torso up to discard my shirt. The way he looked at me should have made me uncomfortable and blush, but my needs suddenly made me very unconcerned with that kind of thing.

The moment the head of his cock brushed against me my entire body tensed, though.

"It's okay," he sighed, his breathing uneven. "Relax."

Edward leaned over me, intertwining our fingers beside my head. I squeezed his hands tighter with every new inch of him inside me.

It was an entirely different experience from last night. There was a slight sting of soreness, but it was easy to overlook. There were so many different things I wanted to focus on and enjoy. The sound of Edward's breath coming out in pants with every slow, deep thrust inside me. The way his hands squeezed mine, too, like some kind of silent way of communicating. His kiss, lazy and sloppy and swallowing every moan that escaped me.

One of his hands disentangled itself from mine, hitching my leg up higher around his waist and ending up gripping my waist. His touch, so close to the home of my butterflies, made them swarm around in greeting.

"Yes," he groaned into my neck, his movements becoming harder, faster.

My fingers dug into his hair, pulling his lips to mine with a whimper.

"You're so close, baby," he moaned against my lips. "Let me feel you."

His words set me off, the tension he had been building up for so long finally snapping. I had no control over the sounds that escaped me or the tight hold I had on his hair. I was barely conscious enough to comprehend the chant of my name in my ear and the final few, hard thrusts before he collapsed on top of me.

It took us both a while to slow our breathing back down. Edward recovered first, leaning up and brushing a few loose strands of hair out of my face.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice gruff but his eyes blissfully sweet.

I nodded and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. My hands roamed up his arms and over his shoulders as his tongue tangled with mine.

After a few minutes he begrudgingly disentangled himself from me heading to the adjoined bathroom with a wink in my direction.

Once he was gone I sat up, pleased to find there was no uncomfortable soreness like there had been last night. I pulled a blanket from the bottom of the bed, tugging it up to keep myself mostly covered.

I heard the shower start to run and relaxed back into the pillows with a smile. Somehow, even from the beginning, everything with Edward felt easy. There was never a time when I felt my inner awkwardness come out around him or when I felt like he was brushing me off. He was easy to talk to and _very_ easy to fall into bed with.

The bathroom door opened, shower still running. Edward stood there, stark naked, and smirked at me. "Aren't you coming?"

I blinked at him, more than a little distracted by his state of undress. "Oh, I…"

He walked over, smirking as he came, and gently pried the blanket out of my hands. "No sheets or blankets this time."

I slid out of the bed quickly and my limbs didn't appreciate it. Edward kept me upright, a smirk on his face and hands on my hips. I followed him to the shower, blushing the entire way.

The shower was spacious; made out of creamy marble and glass doors. The head rained warm water down on us, the sound as comforting as a nighttime storm.

I stood under the spray, most likely looking like a drowned rat, as Edward pushed my hair out of my face. His hands cupped my cheeks, fingers sliding gently down the bridge of my nose and across my lips.

His eyes were on me, bright and sated and… contemplative. "You're so… fucking pretty."

I smiled up at him, knowing he had to be lying but appreciating the comment anyway. We were both quiet after that. Edward worked diligently, washing my hair entirely too thoroughly. His hands were on their best behavior as he ran a washcloth along my body, kisses peppered along every newly cleaned inch of skin.

Once I was as clean as could be we switched places, Edward standing under the spray, but I was at a complete disadvantage.

"You're too tall," I grumbled.

"You're too short," he countered with a smile.

Our size difference was prominent; where Edward was tall and muscular, I was petite and slim. I wasn't a stick, I had some muscle on me from working out as much as I did, but it wasn't like I was built or boney. And I had always been on the smaller, shorter side at five-three.

My research had earned me the knowledge that Edward was exactly six feet tall. My last two nights had earned me the knowledge that everything about him was much bigger than me.

Standing here, naked in the shower, our size difference was blatantly obvious.

I let out a squeak when Edward picked me up, hands on the backs of my thighs. My legs wrapped around his waist and I stared down at him with wide eyes.

"Better?"

I laughed the whole time I washed his hair. Took extra care to make sure all the shampoo was washed out, just because I liked the way he smiled up at me as I did so.

It was surprisingly natural to crawl into bed beside him. There was no awkwardness when I laid my head on his chest or when his arms wrapped around me.

"Can I ask you a question?" I asked sleepily. I was exhausted, but there had been one thing on my mind that I wanted to get out of the way.

"Hmm?"

"Um, I mean, I know you've… you know. And you made sure I… you know. But I don't really have a frame of reference for these things and I wanted to make sure it was… you know." I cringed at myself. It made absolutely no sense, even to me.

"Are you asking me if you're good in bed, Bella?"

My eyes widened in horror. "_No._ I was asking if it was… enjoyable for you. Even though I don't really know what I'm doing."

Edward tilted my chin up to look at him. "It's… fucking fantastic, Bella. _You're_ fantastic."

"Oh," I said with a deep blush creeping up my cheeks. "Um, okay. Good."

Edward pressed a quick kiss to my lips with a smile and I relaxed against him, finally letting my eyes drift shut.

**A/N: Hope you're all still enjoying this one! Thanks for the continued support. You have no idea how motivated every review makes me.**

**Also, a few stories from the Hopeless Series are nominated over at the TwiFic Fandom Awards! **_**Dark Paradise**_** and **_**reputation**_** are up for Favorite All-Time Fic, **_**reputation**_** is up for Empire Records, and **_**Hopeless Kingdom**_** is up for Undiscovered Gem! I'd love a vote or two if you can spare the time – you can vote once every twenty-four hours on their site! **

**See you Friday!**


	11. Chapter 11

**BPOV**

People always talked about how magical New York City was. It was the city that never sleeps, the capitol of the world, a melting pot of cultures and people. I had always been pretty indifferent on the subject. I never really had the desire to run off to New York City to experience the crowds or see the plaza or do any of those things.

Now, I was fairly certain New York City would end up being one of my favorite places. The reasoning for that made me an adulterating whore, but that was an issue I was going to focus on another time because I wasn't sure if I had ever been this happy before. The kind of happy where I woke up smiling after sleeping seven hours, worked because I enjoyed the challenge and not the distraction.

In the back of my mind, the real world was always there. Edward never wore his wedding ring around me anymore and I had to lie to Rosalie on a daily basis whenever we talked. But, then, Edward would knock on my door and everything was forgotten.

I didn't work for him.

He wasn't married.

I didn't have a hundred and one issues holding me back in life.

He was mine.

I was his.

It was simple and easy and blissful. I simultaneously craved the sun setting every night and loathed that it meant another day had passed. My butterflies were thriving; constantly fluttering around happily in my stomach. No longer pestering me into giving them a moment with Edward when they knew him so well now.

We did. Know him, that is. My butterflies and I. More than what his hair felt like between my fingers or what the muscles of his back felt like as he moved. We talked a lot. More than I had talked to anyone since my first few months knowing Rosalie.

Edward seemed to find a new subject every day that he was curious about. Sometimes it was college, then it would be my friendship with Rosalie or the people I worked with. He always gratefully took the hint when I steered clear of his subtle questions about my family. In return, he would talk to me about how he really did want to turn his show around. Or tell me stories about what it was like raising Masen and Lucy. Irina was his no-go subject.

He had surprised me Monday morning with a complete plan for what he wanted his appearance on the show to accomplish. He wanted to own up what his show had become and show people he was stepping away from that. That he was still the guy who could talk to anyone about anything and enjoyed a good joke or game. He went in that morning with his own monologue written and the writers loved it, throwing out the one they had already written for him.

Somehow, even with this new dynamic we had, we still worked well together. Most of the time.

"You have to stop looking at me like that," I sighed, pressing the elevator button for the lobby.

It was Wednesday morning and we were headed out for the day. I straightened myself in the elevator beside Edward, pulling my bag higher up on my shoulder and flattening a hand down the skirt of my dress. It was a simple dress; short sleeved black top and a tulip skirt that stopped mid-calf. No one was all that formal at the studio.

"Like what?" Edward asked, feigning a look of innocence at me.

"Like you've seen me naked," I whispered, though no one else was in here with us.

"Oh, I have," he teased, his voice sounding oddly proud. He came to stand behind me, lips torturously close to my ear. "And after last night I have the wonderful image of your lips wrapped around my cock, too."

I huffed out an exasperated breath, but let my body lean back against his. Last night had been kind of spectacular, but I could say that about every night we had been in New York. I couldn't say a blowjob had ever been very high on my list of to-dos. But, it was now that I knew it meant I got to watch Edward throw his head back against the couch and feel his fingers dig into my hair.

I smiled at him through the elevator mirror, not bothering to think about the embarrassing flush of my cheeks. Instead, I focused on his cheeks that were getting increasingly covered day by day.

"You're getting scruffy," I mumbled, changing the subject.

Edward's mood shifted immediately. He stepped back beside me, running an uncomfortable hand along his chin. "I like to take advantage of not having to shave every day for the show when I can. Does it bother you?"

I shrugged, "I kind of like it," before stepping out of the now open elevator doors.

As usual, there was a very hectic vibe walking into the studio. The writing portion of the week was officially over with and now came the rehearsals and revisions and cutting and rewriting and a hundred other things before a live show on Saturday night.

Edward was pulled into a conversation with one of the writers once we got here. I wandered over to where his bumper photoshoot was going to take place this morning, walking past a man leading an actual miniature horse through the studio. I froze and stared as they walked passed.

"Don't ask," he mumbled dejectedly.

I chuckled to myself, standing back and watching the small area get set up. There was an intricate looking desk in front of a plain white backdrop, much like the one Edward sat in front of every weeknight.

"Have I told you how much I hate photoshoots?" Edward grumbled, appearing beside me and buttoning up a pristine, grey suit coat. He hadn't been in a suit in days, not since we got to New York, and suddenly my mind was filled with images of getting him out of it.

I shook my head, clearing the rogue thoughts. "Well, this one isn't supposed to take too long. An hour, tops before they're scheduled to shoot the musical guest."

"We're ready for you, Cullen," a man shouted from the set.

Edward grumbled under his breath.

"Hey," I shouted after him as he walked away. When he turned back, I drew a smile over my lips with two fingers. Just like I had done most nights as he walked out for his show. "Smile."

He shook his head with a chuckle, walking away.

I stood out of the way, off to the side and watched. Everything so far this week had run smoothly. The hardest parts were still ahead, but it was a good sign. I hoped.

Edward seemed to be enjoying the work and I was hoping that would bleed into his work at home when this week was over. This attitude on his show would do wonders for his ratings and image.

I was pretty sure this was the real Edward Cullen. One not bogged down by estranged wives or everyday worries. He was sarcastic and witty but kind at the same time. He seemed much more like the man who had booked his show in the first place and less like the one who was on the brink of losing it.

I knew the studio was still in the process of looking for someone they thought could replace him. Edward's agent, a man named Garrett who worked for both his mother and father, too, was just starting contract negotiations. It would be a few months before we really knew where he stood, though.

My job would be pretty easy once people saw him for who he really was. I just needed a few more ways to make that happen.

"Bella," Adam, the head writer, said frantically. He rushed over beside me, a mountain of scripts in his hands. "We need Cullen in this sketch. It's a product placement for – "

"No product placements. I told you that before he signed on."

"You don't even know what it's for," he argued.

"I don't care." We were in the earliest stages of people starting to _possibly _like and trust him again. I wasn't going to throw in a bunch of paid product placements with that.

Thankfully, Adam seemed to respect my decision and scampered off, shuffling through his scripts. A completely different response than I got from the writers on Edward's show who fought me tooth and nail on every decision.

"You're strict," a soft, slightly high-pitched voice broke me out of my thoughts. The source of the voice had bright blue hair down to her waist. She was about my height, so on the short side, and wore a simple white sun dress.

I was big on researching every possible way the public could critique Edward for this episode, so I knew she was the musical guest. Ashley, nineteen, sudden success for a track she recorded in a basement with a few friends.

"Um, I guess," I responded softly.

"I'm Ashley."

"The musical guest," I nodded, internally rolling my eyes at myself for not knowing what else to say. "I'm Bella."

"So, you're Edward Cullen's publicist?" she asked. When I nodded, she went on. "Are you any good?

I raised my brows at her, surprised by her bluntness.

"Sorry, it's just – my career kind of started like, yesterday. And I have this publicist who was a friend of a friend but I don't really think she cares all that much about me. And I wasn't sure how it was supposed to work."

Work, I could talk about. "Well, I would recommend a publicist who actually cares about you. An indifferent publicist is kind of like getting a public defender who doesn't care if you go to prison or not." I rummaged around my bag for a moment, coming up with a business card. "Newton & Cheney have a good history, if you're looking for someone new."

"Thanks," she sighed happily, taking the card.

Ashely was called away and a few minutes later Edward was done as well. I walked with him through the winding halls, back toward his dressing room.

"Making new friends?" he asked with a smirk.

"Oh, no. I don't make friends. She was asking about finding a publicist."

Edward gave me an odd frown, and I could tell he was going to say something, but then Adam breezed by and distracted him.

**-B-**

"Fucking rain," Edward grumbled to himself the next night, shaking his floppy hair out in the lobby.

A nasty storm had rolled through this afternoon, but I liked it. The constant sunshine in Los Angeles got tiring after a while. Sometimes it was nice to have a pitter patter of rain on the roof to fall asleep to, or see a flash of lightening outside your window while you read a book.

"I like the rain," I shrugged, smirking over at Edward's frown. I knew he was a California boy, born and raised. He had a natural, subtle tan on his skin year-round and, apparently, got extra grumpy when there was a storm.

"You like getting soaked walking from the car to the door?"

"Well, I'm not going to get all grumpy about it," I retorted. "Besides, you're barely wet."

I spent part of my childhood in one of the wettest cities in the country. There had been days where I walked into high school sopping from the parking lot. Our five steps from the car to the door was hardly torture. Granted, it was coming down good out there, but still.

We stepped in the elevator, side by side, and I pressed the button for our floor.

"I don't like the rain," Edward admitted, tugging at his already drying hair.

"I can tell," I chuckled. I smiled over at him, somehow more comfortable teasing him about his disdain for the rain than I was talking to anyone in any social setting. Before I could put my mind in a tailspin of wondering why that was, I changed the subject quickly.

"You're cute when you're grumpy," I muttered. Ever since Sunday, Edward seemed to enjoy teasing me. Whispering innuendos in my ear just to get me to blush or huff off, always using the excuse that I was cute when I was flustered. Now, it was my turn.

He stared down at me, eyes dark, but followed the no-touching-in-public-spaces rule. The elevator most definitely had a security camera, but our hallway, thankfully, didn't. Edward wasn't the kind of celebrity that had people constantly breathing down his neck, and I highly doubted anyone would be interested enough to hack the hotel security feeds to spy on him, but it was still stupid to risk anything.

Edward smirked down at me. The elevator was filled with the now-familiar sexual tension that I had come to adore. The moment was destroyed when the doors opened and a chorus of his name greeted us.

_Fuck._

I grabbed my bag from his hand and let him step out to greet his family. They all seemed to be here; his parents, his sister, Jasper, his children… Irina. Every face made the new knot in my stomach tighten.

All people I was suddenly lying to or betraying. I was having an affair with Carlisle and Esme's son. Alice's brother, Jasper's soon-to-be brother-in-law. Lucy and Masen's father. Irina's husband. All people who had a claim on Edward leaps and bounds larger than any I would ever have.

He was theirs. Not mine. No matter what I told myself in our little New York City bubble. And the smiles and hugs and well wishes suddenly made me want to cry.

The hallway was a flurry of activity. I hopped out of the elevator quickly as the doors closed, having stood there frozen too long. I took a deep breath and made a conscious effort to put a small smile on my face. We had both known his family was coming to support him, but they were all a day early.

"What are you doing here?" Edward gasped, hugging his mother as she beat everyone else to him.

"We came to celebrate," Esme replied obviously.

I watched with a smile as Edward picked Lucy up in a big hug, ignoring her typical teenage screech of "Dad!" before letting her go with a smile. He ruffled Masen's hair, much to his disapproval, then gave his own father a quick hug.

I was dying to make myself scarce, but the hallway was flooded with people. There was nowhere for me to slip through to get to my room without bumping into someone. My need to get away magnified tenfold when Irina sauntered up to him, wrapping herself tightly around Edward in an intimate hug.

Hoping my sudden nausea wasn't evident on my face, I gave Lucy a small wave as she smiled at me from her spot. Hitching my bag further up on my shoulder, I started toward my door but didn't make it very far.

"How's the nose?" Jasper asked, stepping beside me.

"Oh, better. Thank you," I mumbled, absentmindedly running a finger down the bridge of my nose. It had hardly been my focus the last few days. It hadn't been as bad as I thought, though. Healed quicker than it usually did.

Jasper nodded, but his eyes told me he had more to say. "Good."

I slipped past him and did my best not to sprint to my door. I was rummaging through my bag for my key when Alice called my name.

"You're coming, right Bella? To Serendipity to celebrate?"

"I don't want to impose on your family time," I told her quickly. "Thank you, though."

"You should come, sweetheart. You're the one that got Edward the opportunity in the first place," Esme said, coming to stand beside Alice. The crowd in the hallway had broken off in groups. Carlisle and Masen stood near the elevator talking, Lucy and Irina doing the same. Edward's door was open and I guessed he was inside changing out of his 'soaked' clothes before going out with his family.

"I shouldn't," I said calmly, finally pulling my room key out of my bag.

"Our celebration is a bit premature," Esme sighed. "But, I haven't heard my son talk so animatedly about his job in a long time."

"He seems to be enjoying doing the show," I told her, searching my mind for a polite way to exile myself in my room.

"Let's leave her alone now, Alice. Maybe we'll get her to come out with us another night," Esme said, a subtle wink in my direction.

I watched as Alice and Esme walked down the hall, arm in arm, to join the rest of their family. Edward exited his room, closing the door behind him, and was immediately joined by Irina at his side.

His wife. He was going out with his wife and children and family, as he should be.

I saw his eyes, wide and mossy, flash to me a moment before I scurried into my room. As soon as the door clicked shut behind me tears blurred my vision. My back fell against the door, my legs quickly giving out as I slid down to the floor.

I hated crying. It made me feel weak and insecure and my mind always accused me of overreacting whenever tears slid down my cheeks. I spent a lot of my childhood crying over my parents or siblings and I didn't like people having that kind of power over me or my emotions. Not anymore.

This time I had no one to blame for the mess other than myself.

**-B-**

I ended up on the lounge chair out on my balcony. The rain was still coming down in sheets, sprinkles making their way to me even with overhang. I had a blanket from the bed in my lap, an expensive bottle of wine beside me, and a plate that once contained half a dozen fresh chocolate chip cookies discarded beside the bottle.

I poured the last drops of wine in my glass, swirling it in my hand before taking a large sip. I wasn't a big drinker but I had found an appreciation for it tonight. The wine helped me come to the realization that I was a fucking idiot.

Anyone with a brain could come to the conclusion that Edward was using me for sex. He was a man who, if he was telling me the truth, hadn't gotten laid in over a year. Then I came along, twelve years younger with a gym hobby that left me with a body even my naïve brain knew men appreciated. Add in my inexperience and those fucking butterflies and I was an easy name to add to his list of six, now seven.

In the basic sense, I knew he cared about me. The kind of caring that meant he didn't want to hear that I had died suddenly or was tragically ill.

At the end of the day, we were having an affair. I was his mistress. A homewrecker, though I knew his home had already been destroyed by his wife. That didn't make what we were doing any less of an affair.

I shook my head, because that didn't matter. Not in the long run. Edward had a family and a life and I was just a passing phase for the time being.

The last four days had been amazing, but our secluded life in New York made it easy for me to look past the reality of the situation. What would happen when we got back to Los Angeles? When we weren't living a few feet away from each other?

I hated myself for wanting to frantically come up with some solution. A fix that meant I got to keep kissing him and waking up with him for as long as possible. Because just as he was using me, I was using him, too.

He calmed my butterflies; giving them the attention they craved every night so they didn't pester me so much throughout the day. He listened to me, took my advice about his career and didn't think twice before believing me when I told him about my family troubles. And I more than enjoyed the countless orgasms I had gotten out of the deal.

Seeing his family tonight was a reminder of everything I had been avoiding for the last four days. The most gut-wrenching one being that Edward wasn't mine. He belonged to them.

And I was a bitch for being bitter about it.

I jumped in my seat when the sliding balcony door opened. Edward stepped out, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

"What are you doing here?" I gasped, hugging my knees to my chest and pulling the blanket closer around me. I hadn't gotten around to talking myself out of this arrangement yet, and I knew if he was here that wasn't going to happen.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly. He came to my lounge chair, straddling the space where my legs once stretched out. His eyes were apprehensive when his hands reached out, sneaking under the blanket and rubbing comforting circles into my calves before I pushed them away.

"You shouldn't be here," I whispered

Edward had a way of convincing me what we were doing was fine. Which it was, for him, because he wasn't fucking his career away. If word ever got out about this, he'd be fine. Men always were. I, on the other hand, would be fired immediately and probably never get another job in Los Angeles again.

Sometimes, I didn't care about it, though. Sometimes I just wanted to feel something other than the crippling self-doubt I lived with every day. And Edward made me feel everything but doubtful about myself.

"I didn't think they were coming in until tomorrow night," he explained.

"I know."

I knew everyone, including Irina, would show up eventually. As messed up as it was, she did show up for Edward when necessary to sell the _happily married_ story. I just thought I had one more night to mentally prepare myself for it.

"I'm sorry."

I shook my head, running a couple frustrated hands through my hair. "You don't have to apologize, Edward. I… I know what this is. I might be inexperienced but I understand the basics of an affair."

I wasn't expecting the flash of pain across his face, or for it to turn angry. "I don't want her," he argued fiercely, almost like he was arguing with himself, too. "I don't want her. I want you."

I lost every ounce of fight I had in me. Maybe it was because of the wine or his sad eyes but every reason that had floated through my mind the last few hours… all of the logic of why I should never touch him again no longer mattered.

My lips found his quickly, my body pressed as closely to Edward's as I could manage on the lounge chair. We let out matching groans as our tongues met, my hands digging in his hair and never wanting to let go.

We stumbled off of the chair and back inside the room, quite the challenge when neither of us was willing to break our kiss for longer than a few seconds. I ended up pressed against the wall, Edward's hands buried in my hair.

The unpleasant memory of Irina walking beside him, her arm linked with his flashed through my mind. It made an uncomfortable mixture of jealousy and possessiveness shoot through my veins.

I pushed back against him, in the direction of the bedroom, and tossed his jacket off of his shoulders as we went. Edward's hands roamed as we stumbled toward the bed, squeezing my ass or thighs or sneaking underneath the sweatshirt I was wearing. I managed to get his shirt unbuttoned and on the ground before pushing him down on the bed.

Edward wasn't mine. Not on paper, not in any sense of the word other than at night when his hands were on me and not someone else. If that was all I was ever going to get, then I would damn well enjoy it while I could.

I climbed on top of him, not wasting any time in burying my hands back in his hair and pulling his lips to mine. The kiss was rough and my fingers probably tugged too harshly at his hair.

Edward didn't seem to mind, other than a muttered curse when I bit down on his bottom lip. One of his hands snuck underneath the cotton shorts I was wearing, two fingers easily sliding inside me.

My hips bucked against his fingers for a few minutes until I sat up and pushed his hand away. I tossed my sweatshirt across the room, scooting back on Edward's thighs so I could undo his belt and jeans.

I had to stand at the foot of the bed to shimmy the jeans off of his legs. I dropped my shorts with his jeans and got back in my spot on his lap. Leaning over him, I peppered kisses along his chest and neck, up to his scruffy chin while Edward reached blindly over to the nightstand looking for where he had stashed half of his condoms.

Once he had one I snatched it out of his hands, ripping it open and securing it in place. I had no time to worry about never having been on top of him before or to wonder if I was doing something wrong as I slid down slowly on his length.

My eyes squeezed shut, fingers digging into his chest. I made a note of every spot where we touched. My thighs on either side of his, Edward's hands squeezing my waist, my hands on his chest, every inch of him inside me.

_Mine,_ I thought. For tonight, right now, he was mine.

I rolled my hips experimentally against his, smiling at the answering groan I got from Edward. He patiently let me get my bearings straight, hands roaming along my waist and up to my breasts as I rocked against him.

I stopped thinking about anything other than our mutual pleasure, dropping my hips against his. Edward's hands were at my waist, keeping me balanced and digging into my skin with every movement.

"Fuck, baby," Edward groaned, his hips starting to thrust up to meet mine.

I whimpered when Edward's hand slid between us, pressing firmly against my clit with every one of my movement. My toes curled and my nails dug into his chest, the tight coil of pleasure finally snapping throughout my body.

I collapsed against Edward's chest, hearing the familiar incoherent curses that I knew meant he was coming down from the same high I was. I buried my head in his shoulder, actively fighting against another wave of tears.

Edward's hands trailed softly along my bare back. Up and down my spine and along my thighs. He brushed my hair out of my face and pressed his lips against my shoulder. It wasn't long before reality set in again.

"This is wrong," I choked out.

"I know," he answered gruffly.

"We need to stop."

His fingers froze, tracing patterns in my thighs, before his arms wrapped tightly around my back, squeezing me to him. "I know."

I sighed, taking a deep breath of his rain-tinged scent. "I don't want to, though."

"Me either," he whispered, pressing a warm kiss to my shoulder.

A few minutes later I was sitting up in bed, alone, gripping the comforter to my chest. I watched silently as Edward got himself dressed, buckling up his belt and buttoning up his shirt. Once he was dressed he came over to me, burying his hands in my knotted hair and pressing a desperate kiss to my lips. His scruff had left my chin delightfully scratched.

When he pulled away his eyes were sad and maybe a little apprehensive. We had accomplished nothing tonight other than doing exactly what we shouldn't have done in the first place.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

_No_.

"Yes," I sighed.

**A/N: When in doubt, throw in some angst. That's my motto. I'm officially out of pre-written chapters thanks to my bout with food poisoning but the next update is mostly done. I'll **_**hopefully**_** be able to update Tuesday/Friday next week!**

**Also, don't forget that a few of my stories from the Hopeless Series are nominated over at the TwiFic Fandom Awards if you feel like voting!**


	12. Chapter 12

**BPOV**

I had been awake since four. The hotel restaurant was closed when I wandered down at five, fully showered and ready for the day. I didn't have it in me to do more than throw my hair in a messy-but-not-too-messy bun, tug some dark jeans around my waist, and button up a white blouse with black polka dots.

The hotel receptionist let me sit in the empty restaurant for a few hours before they opened for breakfast. I managed to catch up on some work that I had fallen behind on thanks to our trip and my nights being consumed by everything except work the last few days.

I emailed Newton a weekly update, as I had been doing for the last month… month and a half that I had been working with Edward. I refused comments on rumors that his network was looking to replace him and I reminded the handful online media outlets I had contacted of Edward's show tomorrow night.

Publicity was all a big board game. It was sucking up to the right people and knowing when to play your cards. Because I worked for Newton & Cheney, I had an excellent group of media outlets that were willing to talk to me and because Edward had the last name of Cullen, everyone was extra willing to listen.

He had been the black sheep of his family for a while, but people were starting to see that was turning around. Slowly. In the beginning, I was doing damage control and trying to get people to stop writing about him because it was all bad things. Now, we had reached a point where they had something else to talk about.

It was good and bad, because there was no pleasing everyone. I had to attempt to keep a balance, because the internet was a dangerous place.

Half an hour before we needed to leave I packed up my work, downed the last of my coffee, and begrudgingly sulked over to the elevator. It had taken every ounce of my work to distract me from last night and what today would hold, and now I had to face it all.

Because I was fairly certain Irina didn't book herself a separate hotel room and, after last night, I was now very aware of how much of a trigger just seeing her was to me. I had done nothing to solve the problem, despite the very simple solution of not sleeping with Edward anymore.

I took a deep breath outside of Edward's door. I had a key to it in my wallet, just like he had one to my room in his. I couldn't very well let myself inside this time, not after hearing a commotion that was likely made by his entire family being in the room.

It took a minute after I knocked for the door to open.

"Hi, Bella," Alice greeted me, holding the door open for me to walk in. "We have breakfast in the dining room if you're hungry?"

"Oh, I'm okay. Thank you, though."

I walked with Alice through the familiar suite. Edward's family was gathered in the living room, plates discarded on the coffee table. Alice skipped back over to the chair Jasper was sitting in, plopping herself down in his lap. Lucy and Masen were standing at one of the large windows, arguing quietly about something. Carlisle and Esme were seated side by side on the sectional.

And I stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"I'm afraid we disrupted Edward's morning, Bella. He should be ready to go in a few minutes," Esme admitted, a soft smile on her face.

"Oh, that's fine," I mumbled, holding my bag with both hands in front of me. This was the exact kind of situation I tried to avoid putting myself in. I didn't really know what to say to people if I wasn't talking about work.

I felt like if I asked about them I was prying and if I talked about myself I was boring them. The alternative was this awkward silence that always followed me around.

"Renata seems impressed with the impact you've had so far," Esme told me, smiling at me from across the room.

My brows shot up, staring at her in surprise. Renata was her and Carlisle's publicist, had been for decades. I was pretty sure she worked for Alice, too, though her career was less scrutinized than the rest of her family's. She had been one of the first people that Newton & Cheney brought on, but never wanted to become a full partner. I had heard the rumor that she thought becoming a partner meant more time behind a desk and less actually working.

It always confused me why she never took on Edward as a client herself, since she had such deep family connections.

"Can I ask why she never worked with Edward?"

"She's been itching for a change of pace I think, but I've been talking her in to staying on with us for years. She doesn't take on new clients anymore. She did work with Edward for a while, but he's always hated the hoops of the industry."

I nodded, having had that conversation with him a few dozen times.

"Thank you, for working so well with him. I know he can be stubborn," Esme said softly.

The whole exchanged made me feel like shit. Sure, I worked hard to make the little progress I had so far with Edward and his career. But, I was also having an affair with this woman's son. When she was paying me to work for him.

"You're always bad mouthing me, Mother," Edward sighed, walking into the room quickly. His hair was still a little damp but his eyes were bright. He was in a plain black button down and jeans.

Esme playfully frowned over at him. "Oh, shush."

Edward went over to his children, pressing a kiss to the top of each of their heads, both of which shoved him away somewhat playfully. "Be good for your grandparents."

"Yes, Dad," they both grumbled at the same time, shaking him off of them like the teenagers they were.

"I'll see you guys this afternoon," Edward said to everyone else, receiving nods and agreements from them all.

I stood in the doorway and watched it all silently, thinking about how Jasper was sitting in the same chair I sat in two nights ago, wrapped in a towel and eating pizza with Edward at one in the morning.

With his goodbyes done I followed Edward to the foyer. Before we could make our exit, Irina emerged from the other bedroom on the opposite side of the suite. She was in one of the provided robes, her hair tied up on top of her head. She was still frustratingly beautiful even though she seemed to have just woken up.

"You're leaving?" she asked with a small yawn.

"Yes," Edward replied curtly.

Irina stood in front of him, reached up on her toes, and pressed a kiss to Edward's cheek.

A simple act that made me want to throw up.

"You need to shave. You know I hate how prickly you get," she grumbled, turning around quickly and disappearing back into her room.

I turned my back on Edward before he could say anything and headed out the door. I felt him a few paces behind me, but neither of us said anything as we waited for the elevator.

I let my body sag against the side wall as soon as the doors closed in front of us.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked cautiously, almost like he was afraid of my answer.

"You ask me that a lot," I sighed.

"I know," he grumbled. I saw him run a frustrated hand through his hair in his reflection in the doors. "That doesn't answer my question."

"I know," I whispered, quickly exiting the elevator as soon as the doors opened.

**-B-**

Thankfully, the day was full of distractions. With the show being tomorrow night there was no lack of things to do around the set, and the anxious energy was hard to breakthrough. So, my own doom and gloom attitude went unnoticed by everyone. Mostly.

I sat in one of the audience chairs, scrolling through emails on my phone during a run-through when Ashley plopped herself in a chair beside me.

"You seem sad," she said bluntly.

I looked over at her, eyes wide and not really sure how to respond to that. I was sad, but I couldn't very well tell her any of the reasons why.

"Just… stressed," I told her with a shrug.

It wasn't a lie. I was stressed and sad and confused and a million other things all at the same time.

"Your rehearsal looked great," I told her honestly, but also hoping it would distract her. I was excellent at deflecting attention off of myself.

"Thanks," she said with a smile. "But, I know that look. Is it boy trouble or girl trouble?"

I frowned over at her. "What?"  
She shrugged with a smirk. "It makes all the difference, whether we're dealing with a guy or girl. I mean, I'm not judging. You do you, or you do whoever the hell you want. If we're trying to solve the problem, though, gender makes a difference."

"There's really no problem," I assured her. "Boy or girl."

"You're a horrible liar," she told me, staring at me incredulously.

I sighed, looking around the studio. There were people everywhere, but absolutely no one was paying any attention to the two of us. And I was desperate for someone's opinion, because I had no idea what I was doing anymore. I sat up, managing to cross my legs underneath myself in the small seat.

"Okay, there might be a guy," I admitted.

"I knew it," she exclaimed with a smile. "Tell me everything."

I couldn't tell her everything, and I shouldn't tell her anything, but I felt like I was about to combust. Blow up in a smoke of stress and worry and self-doubt and guilt. I had said about two words to the girl but maybe that was a good thing. I would probably never see her again and she was a completely unbiased opinion.

"He's gorgeous and sweet and funny and has about two tons of baggage to go along with my two tons of baggage. And there are a lot more reasons we shouldn't be together than reasons we should. But I just… can't bring myself to end it."

I nervously tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, waiting for her response.

"Is he good in bed?" My eyes widened at her question. "What? It's a valid question!"

I rolled my eyes, my cheeks heating up. "Yes," I admitted softly.

"Well, then there has to be a reason you can't end it. If the spark is still there in bed and you're not doing anything illegal, there can't be any harm in keeping it going. Maybe you just have to outlast the four tons of baggage."

I sighed, picking at my nails. "I don't think anything is technically illegal," I mumbled, only half-joking.

Ashley let out a chortle. "I like you." Her name got called from across the stage. "I've got to go, but I want an update on this tomorrow before the show, okay?"

I nodded and she left quickly. None of my problems were solved. Ashley's solution seemed like something I would convince myself of just because I didn't want to lose what I had right now. But, it did go along with what I convinced myself of right after our first night.

Let myself enjoy it while I could. Get him out of my system, ride it out until it inevitably ended on its own.

**-B-**

"Have I told you how much I hate interviews?" Edward grumbled. We were in his dressing room while he had a short break before another run through this afternoon. The show had set up a couple interviews for an entertainment news show to air tonight. It wasn't typical practice, but Edward wasn't a typical host. And I may have encouraged it.

"Then you really went into the wrong profession," I told him from the couch. "You seem to hate about ninety percent of what your job entails."

I looked up from my phone to see Edward smirking down at me. He had been attempting to fix his hair, his back to me. Now, he leaned against the counter with curious eyes.

We hadn't gotten a chance to talk about much of anything besides work all day, but I was grateful for it. My mind was still a hundred different kinds of confused. Before he could say anything, the door opened and we were once again interrupted by his family.

I didn't mind the interruption this time, because he looked like he was about to ask a question I probably didn't have the answer to. I stood from my spot on the small couch in the back of the room, maneuvering myself around the sudden boisterous crowd.

"Ten minutes," I told Edward over the chatter, leaving him with his family.

I wandered out to the stage and watched as everything was set up for the interview. It was a simple setup; a few lights and a couple chairs. Things weren't all to extravagant around here.

The woman interviewing him was getting her mic situated, and I saw my list of approved questions in her hand.

Fifteen minutes later Edward was seated opposite of her, his family and I standing off to the back. I crossed my arms over my chest and listened carefully, breathing a sigh of relief with every answer Edward put out that wasn't finished with an eyeroll or frustrated sigh.

"You have quite the entourage with you today," the woman, Christine Williams, shifted the subject with a smile. "Your wife – "

"Next question," I snapped quickly.

She turned around to me with a cocky smile. "I don't see the harm in bringing up his family."

"There's no harm in it," I shrugged. "But, it's an interview about Saturday Night Live, not Mr. Cullen's personal life."

"Mrs. Cullen is right there, Ms. Swan. It would make for a great segment if she was shown supporting her husband."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Irina take a few steps toward Edward. My arm reached out involuntarily, grasping her forearm before she could get too far.

"Next question or we can pull the whole interview right now," I snapped.

Christine let out a frustrated sigh before resituating herself and getting back on a preapproved topic. Irina snatched her arm out of my hand and went back to stand by her children.

The whole thing had turned my already bad mood worse.

**-B-**

Friday night I ended up sitting in my suite alone. The sun had set hours ago, leaving bright city lights to illuminate the living room. My body was exhausted but I knew better than to think I would be able to fall asleep.

A decision was all I needed. As soon as I made up my mind, I would be rid of this constant knot in my stomach. The constant fuzziness in my head from my thoughts going in every direction. I knew, in the back of my mind, that I wasn't making a decision because I wanted to make the wrong one.

I _had_ made a decision days ago. I was going to take whatever Edward gave me and enjoy it while I could. Live by his motto of no more thinking or worrying. Then his family showed up and I went into a little tailspin.

I heard them get back a while ago. Edward and his kids and wife. They went out to a late family dinner after Edward was done for the day. Alice, of course, invited me until she was blue in the face but I didn't even have to fake a migraine to get out of it.

My phone had been in my hands since I heard them get back. The message already typed out, my finger hovering over the little blue arrow that would send it down the hall. Maybe he was already asleep and wouldn't hear the message. Or maybe his phone was dead.

I pressed the arrow quickly, before I could change my mind.

_Can we talk?_

I stared at the phone, waiting to see the bubble pop up that meant he was typing out a reply. It was two in the morning so I could hardly expect one, but that didn't stop me.

Then, I heard a key click in my door, turning quickly to see the familiar outline of Edward's frame walk in the door.

I tucked my legs underneath me on the couch, eyes on him as he walked over slowly. He was in a pair of blue flannel pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt and I hated myself for immediately wanting him out of them.

Edward sat on the coffee table opposite of me, leaning toward me with his elbows on his knees.

"Hi," I whispered, knotting my fingers together in my lap. I kept my eyes down, because I knew better than to let myself get lost in his.

"Hi."

When we were alone, everything was easy. So easy. Even with my inexperience and awkwardness. None of that ever came out around him. If it did, it would be a lot easier to drop the whole idea. Instead, he came in here and sat across from me and made my mind stop racing for the first time in about twenty-four hours.

"I panicked. When I saw your family," I admitted, finally looking up at him.

"I know," he sighed, running a hand along his still-scruff covered jaw.

"Then I got drunk. And that didn't really help."

A wry smile covered his face. "It never does."

"I want you," I said weakly. Edward's eyes burned into mine and it made my abdomen tense. "But, I shouldn't."

He nodded. "I know the feeling."

"I don't know what to do," I mumbled, my hands itching to reach out for him but knowing it wouldn't lead anywhere useful.

Edward sighed, running his hand through his hair. "If I were a better man, I would leave you alone. Let you get on with your life and career. Instead, it is taking every ounce of my willpower not to drag you into the bedroom behind me."

I swallowed thickly, my eyes drifting to the dark bedroom over his shoulder. "I know the feeling," I repeated with a sad smirk.

I fell back against the couch, chewing on my bottom lip and staring at Edward across from me. My mind was already made up. Had been since the morning after our first night together. I wanted him, he wanted me, and I was selfish enough to take whatever I could get.

It was just a bitch working around the whole _morals_ thing.

"You know, my life would be a lot easier if you were the asshole I thought you were to begin with," I mumbled, attempting to smile over at him.

I got a small smile in return. "Sorry to disappoint."

The whole time Edward had seemed sad, maybe a little dejected. His voice was soft and even, but not in a natural way. Like he was forcing it. He stood and hesitated for a moment before pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head. When he turned to walk away, I called after him.

"Um, wait," I mumbled. "I know you have to go back but can you just… sit with me for a couple minutes?"

Edward nodded and I scooted over on the couch. He sat down carefully and without thinking I bunched my blanket up on his lap and laid down.

I had gotten spoiled with hours of uninterrupted sleep the few nights I got to spend in bed with him, and I was exhausted from only a couple hours last night. As soon as I relaxed against him, I felt my body start to drift into unconsciousness.

Gentle fingers brushed through my hair and quickly lulled me to sleep.

**-B-**

"Feeling okay?" I asked Edward quietly. He had about twenty minutes before the live show started. His family was already in the audience, as was evidenced by the pictures they had been sending him for the last half hour. It was just him and I in his dressing room until someone came to collect him in about ten minutes.

"About the show? Yeah, I've got it," he said confidently. But, then, the pacing started. Back and forth a few feet in front of where I sat on the worn-out couch.

"I'm sorry," he told me quickly, hands tugging at his hair. "For putting you in this position. I know that if anyone ever found out you could lose… a lot. Everything. And I'm so fucking sorry for thinking more about getting us both off than your career. I never should have slipped up in the first place."

My stomach dropped. "You said you didn't regret it," I whispered.

Edward stopped pacing and looked at me with wide, bright eyes. "I don't, baby. But, I know you do. Because you've been walking around here with those sad, brown eyes for two days."

His words were making my head spin. I hadn't had much time to think about our situation all day. Everyone had been busy since we got to the studio; Ashley hadn't even accosted me to give her an update. There were rehearsals and rewrites and more rehearsals basically up until they went live. Sometimes even after.

As always, work was my favorite distraction. Edward, however, hadn't been quite as distracted and I had apparently.

"I don't want to lose you," he said hesitantly. "You've done a lot for my career just in the month and a half you've been here and I genuinely appreciate it. And you. I'll keep my hands to myself. Everything will be strictly professional and I'll make sure no one ever finds out. I'm sorry."

There was a knock and we both heard his name muffled through the door. Edward nodded at me, straightened his suit coat, and walked out the door.

I sat there stunned for a few minutes. Did I regret it? Would my life have been easier if I never knew what I was missing out on with him? Probably. But, what kind of life would it be?

I wasn't the most well-adjusted adult and I knew it. I was faking my way through a job I was severely underqualified for and lying to myself about how much Edward meant to me. I had avoided my mother and her family from the moment I left Florida and I only barely tolerated my father and his.

My life wasn't much of anything. Until I started working for Edward. Yeah, it was a cliché to think he had brought something to my life that I was missing, but it was how it felt. He made me feel less lost and alone, even if it was just for a few hours at night.

And I was tired. So fucking tired of just going through the motions. I wanted the fun and excitement that people talked about in their twenties even though I was usually too awkward to achieve it. Perhaps it was going to the extreme, getting that fun from an affair with a man twelve years older than me, but maybe I deserved it.

After all of the shit I had gone through, maybe I deserved Edward to be my one good thing.

My eyes snapped to the television in the corner of the dressing room. I had been conflicted, watching everything live or watching what the public would see on their screens. It would give me a better sense of how it was received if I wasn't distracted by a live crowd, though. Plus, I didn't really relish in the thought of being surrounded by Edward's family for ninety minutes.

_"Ladies and gentlemen, Edward Cullen,"_ the announcers voice boomed over the television. There was an echo from down the hall, where the actual events were taking place, but I kept my attention on the screen.

Edward walked out the door, past the band and gracefully hopped down the few steps. His smile was contagious, even through the screen, and the way he walked was familiar and light.

"Thank you," Edward exclaimed, a bright smile on his face and a slight flush on his cheeks at the continued applause.

"I'm Edward Cullen," he started. "Host of The Tonight Show… with Edward Cullen, in case you couldn't piece that together. Most of you probably don't watch the show, or haven't seen anything more than a clip of it online in years. According to my newly hired publicist it's been nearly unwatchable for years. Also, according to my newly hired publicist… Watch The Tonight Show with Edward Cullen every weeknight on NBC," Edward joked with a smile, giving a hearty thumbs up to the camera.

The rest of the show from there on out was… brilliant. Everything the world needed to see from Edward to get the last few years out of their minds. Or, at least start to. There was an overwhelming sense of pride constantly flowing through my veins with every perfectly pulled off sketch that went by.

During a commercial break my phone started buzzing beside me. I made the unfortunate mistake of answering without looking at the name, assuming it was Rosalie.

"Hey," I sighed happily.

"Bells?"

Mentally cursing myself, I attempted to keep my composure. "Hi, Dad."

"How's it going down in Los Angeles?"

I ran a frustrated hand through my hair. Maybe I was picking up Edward's habit. "It's fine," I sighed, not bothering to tell him I was across the country, three time-zones over.

"Your mom called me," he started, sounding unbearably uncomfortable.

I rolled my eyes to myself, resisting the urge to squeeze my phone as hard as I could. They always did this. One of them would have an issue with me, call the other to complain and then attempt to solve the problem by saying I had overreacted.

"This rivalry you have going on with Tyler is all in your head, Bells. Your mom – "

"I don't have time to talk, Charlie. I've got to go."

I hung up quickly, tossing my phone in my bag. An odd sense of calm washed over me. Like the last two days of overthinking and rethinking and doing it all over again were finally done. A distant memory because I had no more fight left in me.

I just needed one good thing in my life. One good thing.

I smiled at the ending credits, watching Edward stand beside Ashley and the rest of the cast smiling and waving. I picked up my bag and nearly immediately the door swung open with a swarm of Edward and his family.

"You did so good, dear," Esme said, eyes glassy as she hugged Edward.

"Yeah, you totally redeemed yourself for like the first three years of your acting career," Alice chuckled, snickering to herself and seeming more than a little tipsy.

"Thank you, Alice," Edward answered with a roll of his eyes.

I leaned against the counter in front of the mirror and grabbed the cold water bottle that had been waiting. Edward had collapsed in the director's chair he had gotten ready in, eyes on me as I handed him the bottle.

"Thank you," he muttered, opening it quickly and taking his eyes off of me immediately.

Everyone else had broken off into their own conversations, talking about what sketches stood out to them. I kicked the foot of his chair softly, just to get his attention.

"I don't regret it," I told him quietly. "I'm all in."

**A/N: Less angst next time, I promise. That being said, I have run out of pre-written chapters, but I will still try my best for two updates a week. Next chapter should be up on Friday!**

**Confession time. Yesterday, a reviewer pointed out that my ages didn't line up, and I sincerely apologize for the oversight. It was said throughout the first half of the story that Edward was thirty-two and had his kids at eighteen, but they were sixteen now. Obviously, that math doesn't add up. Again, sorry for not noticing it myself. I was constantly rearranging ages before I started posting the story and completely messed that up. I have (hopefully) changed every mention of the timeline to make Edward thirty-four. Bella is still twenty-two. You have no idea how frustrated I am with myself for this. Sorry for all of the mix ups. **

**Thank you so much for your continued love on this story. I can't believe we've already surpassed 400 reviews. Thank you!**


	13. Chapter 13

**BPOV**

The plane ride back to Los Angeles was surprisingly okay, considering the plane was now packed. Of course, Edward's entire family was flying back with us. But, after last night, I wasn't as terrified of being around them anymore. I still loathed Irina and I didn't see that ever changing, but I wasn't as nervous about them now.

Following my quiet confession to Edward after the show, I congratulated him on a job well done and left him and his family to celebrate. My exhaustion wasn't even an excuse to get away from the crowds or his family. After the days of doubting myself and overthinking every interaction I had ever had with Edward, I was dead on my feet.

My mind was made up. And I didn't care about the consequences.

I spent the plane ride working, grateful for the extravagance of the private plane and the free internet connection. Most of the flight I spent reading review after review of Edward's episode.

Of course, there was no pleasing everyone. There were a handful of articles that called him fake or outdated or a hundred other insulting things, but there were also a hell of a lot that sang him nothing but praises.

With each new, positive review I found I texted it to Edward who was sitting up towards the front of the plane, talking with his kids about what his week had entailed. He would read the messages when his kids would get distracted by something, always smirking in my direction after each one.

We hadn't had a chance to talk since last night, but I knew he understood what I said at the end of the night. The way he looked at me, the way his hand brushed against my waist as I walked past him on the plane, everything told me he was all in, too.

My computer dinged, signaling a new message.

**You look fucking gorgeous.**

My cheeks heated up, but I kept my eyes on the computer. Luckily, I had angled myself so no prying eyes could see my screen.

_Yes, that's what I was going for with my t-shirt and leggings._

I wouldn't call myself gorgeous on any day, but especially not when I was in a plain, grey t-shirt and some comfortable black leggings for the plane ride home.

**You're joking, but if I've thought of seven different ways I could make you scream my name since I saw you this morning.**

I snapped my laptop shut, narrowing my eyes across the plane only to be met with a crooked smile. There was only about an hour left of the flight, so I decided to rest my head against the window and close my eyes.

Los Angeles traffic was as reliable as ever as the sleek black car drove me home. Edward's eyes lingered on me as my bags were loaded in the car, but there were too many people for more than a casual _see you Monday._

It was still early afternoon, but I was already counting down the hours until I could go to sleep. The whole trip had been exhausting, and while I was used to running on little sleep, there were a hundred and one other things factoring into my exhaustion now.

"Welcome back!" Rose shouted, popping a small confetti rocket as soon as I stumbled in the front door.

"I didn't know a week away warranted confetti," I snickered, letting my bag fall to the side.

"Oh, confetti has no boundaries, Bella," Emmett said seriously from the kitchen.

I was suddenly desperate for my only friend and wished I could tell her every detail of the last week. It was uncomfortable having to see Edward's family and know I was lying to all of them, but it would be hell seeing Rose every day and not telling her the truth.

She wouldn't tell a soul if I told her, but she would probably try and talk some sense into me. And I had already tried to do that myself and it didn't work. Instead of sending myself into another spiral of what ifs, I wrapped my arms tight around her.

Once we both pulled away Rosalie looked down at me, eyes scanning over my face.

"You look different," she mumbled, puzzled.

"It's the exhaustion, probably," I sighed.

"No. It's all the success I think."

I snorted, flopping down on the familiar, comfortable couch. I pulled one of the throw pillows into my lap as Rose did the same.

"Tell me everything. Oh! Start with Bryan Drake!"

"I already told you about him," I laughed.

"All you said was his hair was swooshier in person."

"That about sums him up, I think."

There was a crash from the kitchen and I craned my neck around to see Emmett picking up some dropped pans. "What's he doing?"

"Cooking us dinner. He's just about five sizes too big to be in this house."

"I'm not just a pretty face, Bella," Emmett called from the kitchen. When he came in eyesight from around the corner I saw he even had an apron on that said _Kiss the Cook_.

"Did you get him the apron?" I asked Rose with a smile.

She rolled her eyes. "No. He bought it for himself, the big oaf." Rose's eyes drifted toward the kitchen behind me, a beautifully content look on her face.

"You seem happy," I whispered to her with a smile. I had seen her go through more than a handful of guys without ever looking like _that_. Granted, some were using her just as much as she was using them, but there had also been more than a few jerks who hurt her for a long time.

"I am," she answered with a shy smile.

"No longer worried you're too happy?"

"No," she shook her head. "It's the perfect amount. Enough about me, though. _I_ wasn't mentioned in the SNL monologue last night."

"He was awfully proud of himself for that joke," I chuckled. "I heard about it for days."

"Embry wants you to hook him and Sam up with tickets to the show whenever you can," Emmett called from the kitchen. Embry was his business partner and Sam was Embry's older brother.

"Really?" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah. They loved the show."

"Huh," I sighed, leaning back against the couch. I might have been breaking about a hundred different rules and codes of conduct when it came to Edward, but apparently, I was also making some actual progress, too.

**-B-**

I was stupidly excited and only a little nervous as I walked into the theater on Monday morning. I had slept surprisingly well last night, woke up in time to go to the gym this morning, and spent an extra ten minutes curling my hair before walking out the door. My mood was dampened by the appearance of tell-tale cramping as soon as I woke up, but I was determined not to let it ruin my morning.

It definitely ruined _other_ things I had wanted to possibly do today, but my periods were blissfully short on my current birth control pill.

I had Edward's usual black coffee in my hand, but frowned when I walked in his office and he had an iced coffee sitting in front of him. I was momentarily distracted when he watched me walk in, not bothering to hide the way his eyes looked me up and down. I might have had the energy to curl my hair, but my monthly visitor left me reaching for a simple pair of comfortable jeans and a striped t-shirt that was probably too casual for work.

"You don't like iced coffee," I said, frowning down at the hot coffee in my hand.

"No, but you do," he replied with my favorite crooked smile, pushing the cup toward the end of his desk. "I thought maybe you didn't like coffee, because you never brought yourself one in the morning. Then I watched you go through two in one afternoon in New York."

I sat down opposite of him and pushed his coffee toward his side of the desk. I grabbed my drink and quickly read the label. _Iced White Chocolate Mocha, two pumps of toffee syrup, no whip._ The exact thing I always ordered.

I smiled into my first sip. "I get one every morning after the gym to drink while I get ready," I admitted.

"So, you already had one this morning?" he asked with a frown.

"Yes," I sighed. "But, I'll never say no to coffee."

For a few moments we were both quiet and I was quickly distracted by his face. He was pretty. So pretty it was unfair. His hair was in its usual disarray which only made me want to run my fingers through it. His eyes were bright and happy, the shade of shamrocks in the spring. Pouty lips made me bite my own, thinking about every place on my body his had been.

I was interrupted before I could pay proper attention to his jawline. "Bella?"

"Yes?" I asked, forcing my eyes back up to his.

I got my favorite, crooked smirk in response. "There was actually something else I wanted to talk to you about," Edward said, shaking his head slightly and grabbing a pen from his desk. "What are your thoughts on the writers here?"  
"The writers?" I asked, needing a minute to refocus my thoughts. "Why?"

"I want to fix the show. I know it's going to take more than last week to keep people coming back. I know part of the problem is the material."

I nodded, trying not to smile too much. It made me happy any time Edward made his desire to fix the problems with his show known.

"I don't really know who writes what," I admitted. "The only thing I know is James was the one who changed the script after I had approved it and nearly had you tear into the head of the network's grandson."

Edward nodded, twirling the pen in his hand. "Okay."

I felt my phone vibrating in my bag by my feet. "I should go."

Edward nodded, standing and following me to the door. Before I could reach for the handle my back was against it, his lips already on mine. I had to make a conscious effort to not drop my iced coffee, my arm resting over Edward shoulder while my free hand quickly dug into his hair.

I moaned into his kiss when both of his hands slipped into the back pockets of my jeans. I had to, unfortunately, come to my senses when one of his hands slipped around my waist and threatened to slide underneath my waistband.

"I can't," I moaned against his lips. I saw the sudden, harsh disappointment on his face. "Not, I can't do _this_," I sighed, reaching up on my toes to press another quick peck to his lips. "You can't do _that_ because I'm on my period."

"Ah," Edward sighed, smiling softly down at me. His hands left my waist and pocket, fingers moving to softly trail down my nose and across my lips.

"Sorry," I murmured against his thumb.

He shook his head. "You don't have to apologize. It's much better than the alternative conversation. Trust me."

I knew Edward loved his kids more than anything in the world, but I also knew he probably spent a long time regretting the situation, too. Especially right after his high school girlfriend told him she was pregnant.

Edward followed me out, pen and pad of paper in his hands. Before I could ask him what he was doing he turned off in front of the writer's room, but not before I got a not-so-subtle pinch on my ass.

**-B-**

"I know it's last minute, but I think it'll be fun. You said you wanted a date before you left, right?" Rosalie asked, laying across my bed as I packed up my bag for the day.

"Well, yes, but…" _But, that was before I started having an affair with my boss._

"It's not even technically a date. I mean, it is, but it's mostly a bunch of friends hanging out."

It was Wednesday morning and I was already running a little late. Then, Rosalie came in to tell me that tonight I was going to meet her, Emmett, and a few of his friends from college for drinks. One of which was named Alec, whom Rosalie was now attempting to set me up with.

I could hardly be mad at her, because I had asked her to set me up with somebody before I left. It was a moment of weakness when I felt like I would be stuck pining after Edward unless I did something about it. I was still kind of pining after him, because it had been nearly seven days since he touched me and I was going a little stir crazy.

I had been fairly certain after I walked in and told Edward I was all clear for another month that I would be spending tonight with him. Now, I had to walk in and tell him I had a date.

"Will you grab me a dress and shoes?" I asked her, reluctantly agreeing. As if she had already mentally gone through my wardrobe, Rosalie quickly hopped off my bed and pulled out her clothing of choice.

"You know, ever since I met you my wardrobe has consisted of much less fabric," I mumbled, eying the low cut grey-blue lace sundress. It fell down my thighs just fine, but the back merely consisted of some crisscrossing straps.

It had been a slow adjustment, but eventually I gave into Rosalie's love for shopping. Especially when I realized half of my wardrobe was useless in Los Angeles because the climate was so different from Washington. It was the summer after my freshman year that Rosalie started reshaping my wardrobe, and gradually it became much more fashion forward than I ever felt. And much more low cut than I ever would have dared to get without her advice.

"Hey, I made sure you had plenty of work clothes, too," Rosalie said defensively, eying me up and down. Today I was in a pair of black jeans and a creamy, flowy blouse with a little black ribbon bow hanging loosely around my neck. She did have an excellent fashion sense, and I was grateful that I never had to think twice if I looked ridiculous or not anymore.

Rosalie handed me the dress and I folded it quickly into my bag. "I'll see you at six!"

I muttered to myself the whole drive downtown. I felt kind of shitty, going on a sort of date with a guy who probably thought it was an actual date. But, I was kind of backed into a corner.

I got Edward a bigger coffee than usual, solely to attempt to bribe him into not getting upset about the date. It wasn't like he could, really. We had no official relationship and he was _married_. That thought made me feel a little better about his reaction.

Just as he had been the last two days, Edward was sitting behind his desk waiting for me with a smile when I walked in. I set the coffee on his desk, sitting opposite of him. I let out an exasperated huff when he pushed an icy blue Gatorade toward me.

"I don't get a coffee?" I asked, feigning offence.

"That depends," Edward said, his voice deeper than I was expecting.

"On?"  
"Whether you need the Gatorade to keep your energy up… later."

I knew the moment I saw it the Gatorade was his polite way of asking if my period was over. And, if I didn't have a fake date tonight, I would have found it cute. Instead, it reminded me how very sexually frustrated I currently found myself.

"I have a date tonight," I blurted out, embarrassingly loud. My communication skills were surprisingly good with Edward, but I still sometimes spat things out at the worst time.

Edward's eyes darkened and a deep frown covered his face. "Excuse me?"

"I asked my roommate to set me up with someone before we left for New York. And she did. So, now I have to go on a date so she doesn't ask me why I don't want to."

"I see," he sighed, leaning back in his chair and eying me.

"I'm not too happy about it either," I grumbled, grabbing the Gatorade and taking a quick sip.  
Edward was grumpy every time I saw him for the rest of the day. But, to be honest, I was grumpy, too. The Gatorade had been a cute nod to our time in New York and it was all I could do to keep my composure around him this afternoon.

There was an odd break in the middle of taping the show, thanks to a scheduling conflict of one of the guests, so I had to leave before it finished. I changed in the bathroom, spending far too long figuring out the strap situation on the dress. I pulled my hair into a messy pony tail because I didn't have the desire to try all that hard for the date in the first place.

As I was walking down the hall I tugged on the fabric of the dress covering my breasts, making sure everything was covered as much as it could be. In a complete déjà vu moment, I bumped into a solid chest just like I had the last time I was leaving for a date.

"Oh, sorry," I mumbled, looking up at Edward. He was kind of mouthwatering, walking around in his suit. _For a girl who lost her virginity less than two weeks ago I could surely go longer than this before getting this desperate_, I thought, shaking my head.

Unlike the first time, Edward didn't immediately drop his hands from my arms. He squeezed them gently before dropping them. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

I nodded and followed him the few steps down the hall to his dressing room. It was, thankfully, empty as Edward shut the door behind us. I was completely unprepared for his assault, so when I ended up sitting on the thin counter in front of the mirror with Edward's hands gripping my thighs and his tongue in my mouth, I was a little disoriented.

"I told you we can't, ah, do this here," I moaned, unconvincingly, when Edward's attention moved to my neck.

"Then come home with me where I can do _much_ more," Edward groaned, his teeth sinking into a sensitive spot on my neck.

I knew I had to be the one to put a stop to this, because Edward's hands seemed incredibly determined to sneak up my dress. I grabbed his hands, putting them by his sides and hopped off of the counter.

"I have to go," I sighed, grabbing my bag off of the floor. I straightened myself in the mirror, because Edward was very handsy and it disrupted the delicate balance of this dress held together by a couple of strings.

Once I was presentable again, I turned around to leave, only for Edward to be right behind me. With his hands on my waist he walked me backwards silently, until my back was against the wall.

I got out a weak protest before his lips silenced me, this kiss slow and deep and toe curling. When Edward broke away, his lips brushed against my ear as he spoke.

"You're going to go and get this _date_ over with," he grunted, saying the word 'date' like it was a blasphemous sin. "And then, you're going to come to my place, and I'm going to fuck you until you forget his name. Okay?"

My breath caught in my throat but I nodded my answer. Based on the cocky smirk and the way his eyes shined, he knew he had me flustered.

I didn't have a lot of mental capacity for words, so when Edward stood back and opened the door for me, the best I could mutter was, "Have a good show, Edward."

As I drove across town, I expected my mind to try and convince me that the whole thing was a mistake in the first place, to go down a similar tailspin that I went through after Edward's family showed up. It was different now, sneaking around town to find time to spend together. It all seemed much more planned and affair-like than New York felt.

Still, I was a calm as could be. Well, not calm because my mind had Edward's last words running on a repeat in my head the whole drive. But, I was no longer the same mess of guilt I had been the last few days in New York.

I took a deep breath in the car before I got out, looking at my phone and giving myself an hour before I could make my escape. I was a little late, so I tacked on ten extra minutes as my punishment.

The bar was crowded, especially for a Wednesday night. It was a nice place, though. Not a college dive bar or anything like that. Everything was clean and new and obviously popular if the crowd was any indication.

"Bella!" I heard Rosalie shout over the music and voices. I saw her off to the left, at a long table full of unrecognizable people. I groaned internally before reaching her. She hopped up from her spot and gave me a quick hug. "You made it!"

I knew my best friend well, and her exuberance meant she was already at least two drinks in.

"I saw three guys check you out as you walked over," she told me as I sat down on a stool beside her. Her brain probably told her she was whispering, but it was much closer to a yell. "That guy by the bar, dark hair and a full sleeve, but he I've seen him strike out with three other women so far so I would avoid him. But there was also that blonde at the table over there who seems cute."

"I thought I was here to meet one of Emmett's friends," I sighed.

"I know. Just keeping your options open. I've never met the guy and Emmett hasn't seen him in a while. But, he said he was a good guy in college."

I smiled over at Rosalie, because she truly did always look out for me. Had since nearly the moment I met her. And she never made me feel bad for being unable to talk to half of the people I met or never having dated or anything.

A few minutes later I was seated across from a man named Alec. He had dark hair that was slicked back with way too much product but blue eyes that seemed surprisingly genuine and kind.

Most of the table was loud and boisterous, which was no surprise considering Emmett's friends had to be that way to survive with him. But, Rosalie had made a point to sequester Alec and I at the opposite end of the table, away from the commotion.

"Are you still in school?" he asked, though his eyes were definitely not on my face.

"No, I graduated a few months ago." Emmett was a good five years older than me, so I assumed Alec was around the same age and didn't bother asking him the same question.

"Yeah? I fucking loved UCLA. Best years of my life. You ever party at Delta Omega?"

I internally groaned. "No, I wasn't much of a partier."

Again, his eyes drifted down to my chest. "Shame."

I rolled my eyes, picking up my phone when it vibrated next to me. I completely tuned whatever outdated party story Alec was going on about and watched the influx of messages from Edward. Each one coming in a few seconds after the last, each message leaving me more flustered than the last.

**I can't wait to have you naked.**

** Begging for my cock. **

** Screaming my name.**

Before I could respond, a message from Rosalie flashed across the screen.

_Abort! Abort! Emmett was catching up with this guy and said Alec has turned into a manwhore. _

"Yes," I sighed happily, never more glad to hear about someone's manwhoring ways.

"You okay?" Alec asked, frowning at me for interrupting a riveting story about his college days.

"Yeah, sorry. I have to go," I told him, fake regret on my face as I grabbed the small clutch beside me.

"Damn, really?"

I rolled my eyes at his disappointment. "I was never going to sleep with you, so you don't have to look so disappointed," I blurted out.

I hopped off of my stool and wandered over to the opposite end of the table where Rosalie was seated.

"I'm so sorry. Apparently, he – "

"It's fine. I had a shitty day at work and wasn't really in the date mood anyway," I sighed. "Are you staying with Emmett tonight?"

A lazy smile spread across her face. "Yes."

"Okay," I smiled. She tended to spend Wednesday and Thursdays at his place, come home for fresh clothes Friday, and then be gone all weekend, too. It was kind of cute, watching them get into their own little routine. "I'll see you Friday."

"You should stay. The blonde is still here!"

My phone vibrated in my hand, and Edward's name flashed on the screen. "I've got to go," I sighed, holding up the phone. "Work."

Rose nodded sympathetically and I left quickly. I answered the phone while I was still maneuvering my way through the crowd.

"Hold on!" I shouted over the music and conversations.

Once I was finally outside and walking to my car, I held the phone back up to my ear. "Sorry," I grumbled.

"Are you finished?"

"Yes," I breathed out, unlocking my car door and falling into my seat. "I'll be there in half an hour."

**-B-**

Edward's front door was all glass, so I watched him walk down the hall to answer it. He moved gracefully, still wearing his suit from earlier. It was hard to believe I ever watched hours of this man, wearing suits like that, and not thinking about how exciting it would be to remove it piece by piece.

He had a glass full of dark brown liquid in his hand, but downed it quickly once he locked the door shut behind me. I dropped my clutch on the small table beside us, Edward setting his now empty glass beside it.

I got distracted by his hand, the way his fingers tensed and realizing how much bigger it was than my own.

"What was his name?"

"What?" I asked, my eyes going from his hands to his face.

"The name of the man you were just out on a date with, Isabella. What was his name?"

"Oh," I mumbled, embarrassingly turned on by the way his voice dripped with jealously. No one had ever been jealous of me before. I supposed Edward's came from some manly sense of not wanting the woman he's sleeping with out with another man, but it made my body tense in all the right places. "Um, Alec."

His hand came up to my chin, surprisingly gentle as he lifted my face up and traced my bottom lip with his thumb. Impulsively, I sucked his thumb on one of his passes, which made his eyes darken.

"You're going to be the death of me," he groaned, pushing his thumb farther in my mouth. He pulled his hand away from me quickly, as soon as I wrapped my tongue around his thumb.

I took a step towards him, making us indecently close. I grasped the lapels of his jacket softly, straightening him up. The last couple days had been full of wistful glances and short kisses and it wasn't enough.

Because it was moments like this that made the stress and fear and unknowns of this whole situation worth it.

I tugged lightly on his tie for him to bend down to my level. He had to know I didn't care about Alec or anyone else, even if I couldn't really say it out loud. Because I knew I should, care about anyone but him, but I didn't.

The moment his lips touched mine, nothing was off limits. An almost pained groan from Edward lead to his hands underneath my thighs, lifting me up and wrapping me around him. He started walking up the stairs but all I really focused on was his hair between my fingers and his soft lips between my teeth. I squeaked against his lips when his hands slid up underneath my dress and squeezed my ass.

He set me on my feet at the foot of his bed. Without a second thought I tossed his jacket off of his shoulders and tugged on his tie. I had just barely gotten his shirt off of his shoulders when Edward twisted me quickly, leaving me with my back flush against his front. I gasped when he pressed himself, long and hard, firmly against my back.

I attempted to focus on our surroundings, having only ever been in his bedroom briefly once before. The room was stunning, those same glass walls as downstairs surrounding his sitting area, while the wall behind his bed was made of warm wood. His bed was huge, covered in a dark, puffy duvet cover with contrasting pillows scattered in front of the padded headboard.

"You're mine," Edward groaned into my ear, one hand sliding up my waist and grasping my breast over my dress, the other slipping up under my dress and cupping me between my legs.

I gave him a small nod, squirming against his fingers when he slid them inside my panties without any hesitation. His breath was heavy in my ear as he pushed every one of my buttons. Literally and figuratively.

My head fell back against his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut when he slid his hand underneath the thin fabric of my dress, his warm hand now kneading my breast in time with his movements.

"Mine," he warned. His voice dark with his breath warm against my neck.

Everything in me wanted to be able to say the same thing about him, but I kept my mouth shut. My hand reached around behind me, rubbing against his hard length. I smiled at the groan I got in response and the way he pressed himself farther into my hand. It was an overwhelming thing, knowing I had that kind of effect on him.

My toes curled in anticipation when Edward's hands left to start tugging on the strings at my back that held my dress together. I slipped my feet out of my heels, suddenly dropping a good four inches in height. The action led to a heartbreakingly sweet kiss being peppered on top of my head.

The tender moment passed quickly, the air in the room suddenly heavy and imposing. The instant my dress pooled on the floor Edward quite literally tossed me onto the center of his bed.

He was beside me quickly, tossing my legs out of his way and pressing two fingers inside me. Lips descended on my chest, nips and licks along my skin until he bit sharply at my nipple.

"Are you this wet for me or him?" he grunted against my skin.

All I could do was squirm against his fingers and moan.

"Me or him, Bella?" he asked again, moving to my other breast and biting down sharply on my nipple.

Even in my lust-clouded brain, I knew exactly where the rough hands and harsh words were coming from. A wave of sadness washed over me, only for a moment, because if anyone deserved to know how loved and adored and appreciated he was, it was Edward.

I tugged sharply on his hair, forcing his eyes up to me. His were wild and mossy, a hint of irrational anger behind them.

"Only you, Edward," I mumbled. "Only you."

The anger behind his eyes seemed to fade, but the intensity only burned stronger. He stood up and I groaned at the loss of his fingers and touch. With a nod toward his bedside table, all he said was, "Top drawer."

I flipped myself over on my stomach, reaching blindly in the drawer until my fingers found a pile of foil packets. A smooth hand wrapped around my ankle, pulling me back to the center of the bed as soon as I shut the drawer. Firm hands kept me in place when I moved to flip over.

"Fucking perfect," Edward mused behind me, the bed dipping with his weight. His hands trailed up my waist and along my back, moving in intricate patterns. Tracing fingertips over my spine and dipping down to whisper over the side of my breasts, eventually leaving me to grab the condom where it was discarded beside me.

His slacks were gone, his body bare as it settled over me. Edward tugged my hair out of the pony tail it was in, tossing it over my shoulder and turning my face toward his. His lips covered mine in a sloppy and all-consuming kiss that had me squeezing my thighs together.

"Please," I mumbled against his lips. New York had never been like this. It was easy and care free and amazing. This was raw and unhinged and equally amazing.

Edward sat up, his hands pulling at my hips, maneuvering me as if I weighed nothing. He pulled me up, my knees barely strong enough to keep me to his liking. My arms, which attempted to hold my upper body off of the bed, collapsed the second he was inside me.

I lost track of everything. How many times he would suddenly slow his movements, stretching his body out on top of me and slowly calm my body down before speeding up again, pulling at me against him just as hard as he thrust up against me. I would groan and grumble every time he slowed and he would nip at my neck and ignore my pleas.

"You feel so good, baby," he groaned against my hair. His fingers were buried in it, massaging my scalp as his body rolled slowly above my own. "So good."

I whimpered against the bed. My arm reached behind me to dig my nails into his shoulder for something to grasp other than the sheets.

"Please," I whined when he sat up, pulling my knees back up underneath me. I had no energy to even attempt to hold myself up anymore so he had to do all of the work, hands hard on my hips.

I moaned loudly when he started to move again, sharp thrusts that left me biting the sheets beneath me to keep somewhat quiet.

"Fuck, yes," he grunted, hands tightening around my waist.

Everything inside me exploded, the most intense fire spreading from limb to limb. I heard myself scream his name, but didn't actually feel myself do it. My entire body collapsed on the bed but I still felt Edward behind me. A second later I heard him groan and felt warm spurts splatter along my back.

My thighs shook and my hands seemed stuck in a death grip on the sheets. I had no cognitive thought for maybe five minutes, and jumped when I suddenly felt a warm wash cloth run up and down my back.

Edward pulled at my hands, getting me to release my grip on the sheets, and then easily lifted me off of the bed. I had no energy to protest or tell him I could walk myself because I wasn't sure I could. Instead, I sighed happily and pressed a kiss to the skin closest to me on his shoulder.

A few minutes later I was in a wonderfully large bathtub, my back against Edward's chest. My head rested in the comfortable spot beneath his chin.

"Can you stay?" Edward asked softly, his fingers tracing patterns along my abdomen.

"I'll have to leave early," I mumbled, suddenly glad for Rosalie's recent lack of time at home.

Edward smiled against my neck, dropping a kiss to my shoulder. "Sit up."

"No, thank you," I sighed.

He chuckled behind me. "We've got to work on your stamina."

"I have excellent stamina," I frowned. "I just never do _that _at the gym."

He chuckled again and I reluctantly sat up. His hands were gentle, a stark contrast to what they felt like half an hour ago, and fifteen minutes later I was probably the cleanest I had ever been. My brain was too foggy to really realize no one had ever taken such good care of me.

Edward made a point of discarding my towel as he led me back to his bed. Instead of getting in with me, he knelt beside the edge once I laid down. "Did you eat with him?"

I frowned. "With who?"

Something about what I said must have been hilarious, because I got a hearty laugh from Edward.

"Are you hungry?" he asked once he recovered.

"No," I told him, hoping it was the answer that got him in bed beside me.

I smiled when I ended up being right and he settled in next to me. I was suddenly wide awake as he wrapped himself around me. My fingers did their own exploring. Tracing over his chest, through the thin spattering of hair. Traveling along his shoulders and down his arms, feeling the firm muscles beneath me.

Edward's hand cupped my cheek, pulling my attention back to his face. He said nothing, but his eyes said a lot. Things I couldn't understand, but I saw them in there, wanting to come out. Things that ended with Edward hitching my leg around his waist, moving slowly inside me.

**A/N: The good news: I don't want to spoil anything, but based off of your reviews the answers most of you are waiting for are coming next chapter. The bad news: I can't guarantee I'll be able to update twice next week. If there's no update Tuesday, I can promise it'll be up Friday. **

**PS: enjoy the angst-free chapter while you can.**

**See you then :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**BPOV**

I flopped a few stray hairs back into place, fidgeting with my appearance in my rearview mirror. If I had known my day would consist of a lunch invitation from Esme and Alice, I would have done more than throw my hair in a pony tail this morning. My dress was, at least, acceptable enough. A simple black cotton dress with short sleeves and a belt tied around my waist.

It had taken all of my willpower this morning not to go into a downward spiral of wondering if they were inviting me to lunch to tell me they knew. _Knew_. That I had spent the last two nights at Edward's, that I spent nearly every night in New York in his room before they got there. There were so many things they could know and throw in my face.

But, from the short amount of time I had spent with the Cullen's, they didn't seem like the vindictive type. Esme seemed to only want her children to be happy and Alice was too happy all the time for it to be fueled by anything other than kindness.

Still. A surprise invitation to lunch from the family of the man you were having an affair with couldn't end well. Could it?

I took a deep breath before I opened the door to the restaurant. It was crowded, full of late lunch goers. The walls all fresh white with paintings that probably cost more than my house scattered about.

"Can I help you?" the hostess asked, staring at me as I stood frozen in the doorway.

"Oh, I'm meeting, um, Esme and Alice Cullen?"

Her eyes widened for a minute before she hurried around her podium. "Of course. Right this way, Ms. Swan."

She led me through the crowded restaurant, opening a door in the back to a small, private room where Alice and Esme already sat.

My nerves picked up as I walked in, but they both seemed oblivious to it. I was greeted with warm hugs and welcomes and it only fueled my confusion. I had refused their invitation to basically everything in New York. Didn't really talk to a single one of them while on the plane home. Still, here they were, being nothing but unbearably kind to me.

In my experience, after a few days around me, people stopped caring. Stopped trying to get to know me or spend time with me once they realized how little I had to say to them. Their constant invitations and patience were more than a little confusing.

"Thank you for coming," Esme said kindly, smiling across the table at me. "We ordered a little of everything, I hope that's okay?"

"Of course," I nodded, not all that hungry.

"I asked them to hold off of the food for a while, though," Alice added, her eyes darting to her mother beside her. "We wanted to talk to you about Edward."

_Shit._ They knew. They had to. What else would they want to talk to me about?

"What, um, about him?" I asked, taking a nervous sip of the water in front of me.

"He's going to be furious," Alice mumbled, turning to her mother.

"He'll get over it," Esme countered. "He needs help, he's just too stubborn to ask for it."

None of what they were saying made sense. I could hardly picture Edward being furious at his mother or sister, not furious enough for Alice to look so worried.

"You know of the arrangement my son has with his wife?" Esme asked, her voice shockingly disgusted when she spat out the word _wife._

"Yes," I answered hesitantly. "You all seemed… well-adjusted to the arrangement in New York."

His family knew of the separation, of course. They also seemed to understand that Edward was adamant about selling the _happily married_ story to the public for the time being. Irina came to family events, showed up to support her 'husband' when necessary, and kept to her own happy, selfish little life with Demetri outside of that.

The whole arrangement was something I consciously stopped myself from thinking about weeks ago, because I couldn't understand a single thing about it. Even before New York, I knew Edward didn't like questions about his arrangement with Irina. He usually got grumpy and defensive whenever she was brought up.

I could hardly bring the topic up now. Any questions about his wife would make him think I was jealous or pushing him to get a divorce and thinking that this was more than it was.

I _was_ jealous and I _did_ want him to get a divorce and this whole thing _was_ more to me than sex, but I could hardly let him know that. And, as much as I wanted those things, I was also very aware they weren't going to happen. I liked to think that made me a little less pathetic than the classic idiot girl having an affair and hoping for a happily ever after.

"I tolerate her for my son and grandchildren," Esme snapped, her voice surprisingly harsh, but not necessarily directed at me. It was the kind of bitterness that came from years of frustration.

"Edward tried to file for divorce two… almost three years ago, now," Alice said softly. She pulled out a file from her bag and handed it to me.

I took it, mouth hanging open in shock, and scanned quickly over the page, a few sections standing out immediately.

_ Petitioner: Edward Cullen. _

_ Respondent: Irina Denali-Cullen. _

_There are two minor children who are the issue of Petitioner and Respondent._

_ The parties have been separated for approximately four years._

My heart started racing and my body burst into a cold sweat. I had tried to do as much damage control for his marriage and separation as I could, and he knew it. Official filing of divorce papers was one hell of a trail for me to miss, and for Edward not to tell me about. Unless…

"He never filed these," I stated softly.

"No," Alice frowned. "He told Irina about it a few days before his lawyer was going to."

"What does she have on him?" I asked slowly, not sure if I wanted the answer. It was the only explanation for why he wouldn't file after going through the trouble of having the papers written up.

The anger was gone from Esme's voice when she spoke next, replaced by sadness and defeat. "His children."

Alice continued on. "She threatened… everything. Taking him to court, trying to fight their prenup. She said she wouldn't agree to any kind of custody arrangement, filled his head with the idea the court would never believe him over her. She would fight him on everything, drag the kids through it all, too."

I dropped the divorce papers on the table before I involuntarily crumpled them in my hands. My anger hadn't really been an issue for me, not since Rosalie introduced me to the gym my freshman year of college. In Florida I used to be constantly angry, when I was allowed. It was always balled up inside because I had no outlet. It made me hate myself and everyone around me until I wanted to scream.

I felt that familiar ball of anger building back up inside of me again. For the first time, it wasn't directed at my family.

"So," Esme continued softly. "Edward bargained with her. Agreed to let her do whatever she wanted with the neighbor as long as he got to see his children whenever he wanted."

I wanted to scream and cry at the same time. "Do they know?"

The kids knew about the separation, obviously. Jesus, they spent a majority of their time living with Irina and Demetri. Edward only got them on the weekends.

"Just the basics. They don't know their mother is using them as bargaining tools to keep spending Edward's money," Alice snapped.

I scrubbed my hands over my face, worries of Alice and Esme accosting me over my affair with Edward long forgotten. Still, I wasn't quite sure why they were telling me all of this. Why call me to lunch now and spill all of Edward's secrets?

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked quietly. I almost wished I never knew, because it would make it so my heart didn't feel like it was suddenly shattered all over the floor.

"I saw how quickly my son was throwing his career away and the persona the media was giving him would only fuel Irina's claims. I had been begging him to agree to work with Renata for years, but he wouldn't. I thought maybe a new person, someone he knew didn't know a thing about Irina would be better to help on that front."

That made sense, I supposed, for why she hired me in the first place. Still, it didn't explain why they were telling me this now.

"Then, last week, I saw how well he worked with you." Esme went on with a shake of her head. "He trusts you. He listens to you and does what you ask with a smile on his face."

I frowned. "It's not like I order him around or anything."

"No," Esme agreed with a smile. "But, he agreed to that interview because you told him it would be a good idea. The last time he let someone else ask the questions was probably ten years ago."

"You also seem to dislike Irina as much as we do," Alice added with a smirk.

My cheeks heated. I disliked her for a lot of reasons, most of which I couldn't admit to them. "I just… never understood the arrangement." I shook my head, my brain too overloaded with information to think clearly. "I still don't understand why you're telling me this."

"Because… I think you're a bright young woman who can help my son more than you know."

"You have every resource in the world," I blurted out. "I mean… I'm sorry. It's just… you can hire the best lawyers, the best publicists, the best everything to help him."

"I can," Esme nodded. "And I have. My son has refused every ounce of help I have tried to give him, with the exception of you."

I shook my head vehemently. "I can't help with any of this," I said frantically. "I write press releases and Instagram posts. I don't…"

"I know you can't work miracles, Bella. But, in two years those kids aren't going to be her bargaining tools anymore and I can't have her sinking her claws back into my son."

My heart dropped into my stomach. "You think he would get back together with her?"

"I think she has been manipulating him since he was eighteen. And Edward's a peacekeeper. He doesn't like big blowouts or arguments. He likes making people happy."

We were all quiet after that. I stared at the divorce papers in front of me and Alice and Esme picked at the food that had gotten delivered.

What could I possibly do to help Edward decide to pull the trigger on his divorce? If what Esme and Alice said was true, Irina had been manipulating him, practically brain washing him, for years. I was a publicist, not a lawyer. I had no idea what went into a divorce, let alone a messy one like this.

I supposed part of the battle was Edward's desire to protect his kids from the public. It was one of the first things he said to me, that his kids were off limits. The moment he filed for divorce every tabloid was going to be printing his picture along with captions wondering about infidelity or a custody agreement. There would be hundreds of articles with fake inside sources that made up every scenario imaginable. And, of course, there would be Irina throwing a bomb on it all and probably making up stories of her own.

"I guess I could…" I shook my head, still not knowing what good I could really do for the situation. "I can try and make a game plan. Um, maybe show him what kind of response he could expect from the media and tabloids… make our own responses to everything, too."

Even as I said it, I knew it was all a guess at best. There was no predicting the future, but the public was pretty easy to anticipate.

Esme smiled at me. "That would be wonderful."

"It doesn't – he'll never do it if she's going to fight him in court. I can make a hundred plans but – "

"I hired you for him because every day that went by Edward was more and more convinced no judge would see him as a good father. Not when the world was losing faith in him. Whatever you're willing to do for him, Bella, I think would help."

Esme handed me a file, plans and notes from her lawyers that she thought might be useful for me, before she excused herself, claiming to have another meeting with Carlisle.

I stared at the folder in front of me, not sure what to do with myself.

"It's a lot to ask," Alice said quietly.

My eyes snapped up to her because, in all honesty, I had forgotten she was still here.

"My mom knows there's not a lot you can do. She just wants to help him."

I nodded, because I understood the feeling.

"You don't like us very much," Alice sighed.

Maybe it was because I was suddenly mentally exhausted, or maybe it was a Cullen thing that led to me constantly blurting out everything I thought around them. "I'm just not used to a family that cares so much about each other."

Alice's bright blue eyes turned sad instantly. "I know."

I frowned over at her.

"Don't be mad at Jasper. He didn't want to say anything… I was pestering him and – "

"It's okay," I mumbled. It wasn't like I was officially his patient or anything and he was violating any kind of code. He came and looked at my nose, probably asked Edward what happened in the first place.

"I'm sorry if I've been kind of pushy. It's just… sometimes you look like you could use a friend."

"I'm not great with people," I admitted. "Unless its work related."

"Well," Alice sighed with a smile. "If you ever need anything, you can call me. Or if you have any questions about Edward. Here's some more information from the lawyers, if that helps you at all."

Alice handed me a couple file folders, all filled to the brim. "They actually think they have a good case. Edward's just too stubborn to listen."

_Or too scared,_ I thought. As I was stuffing the files into my bag, my phone started to vibrate on the table. Edward's name popped up on the screen.

"I should go," I sighed. It had been a lot longer of a lunch than I had planned for.

When I stood up Alice was quickly wrapped around me in a tight hug. "You're good for him. Please don't give up on him, no matter what happens."

_As a client_. I repeated in my head, even on the drive back to the theater. She was talking about the Edward as my client and nothing more. Still, I couldn't get past the way her eyes seemed to be telling me something else.

**-B-**

Sweat was dripping down my chest. My arms burned, legs burned, everything burned, really. Every smack against Emmett's protective gear echoed through the emptying gym. My two hours here had done nothing to dull the dangerous combination of anger and resentment and blood boiling hatred that had been flowing through me since this afternoon.

The gym usually closed early on Fridays but Emmett saw how little my usual run was doing to calm me down and offered to do some kickboxing with me. I didn't do it often, but today it felt like the only way to get my frustration out.

No number of jabs or side kicks or cross punches dulled the anger, though. Because all I could see in my head was Edward and Irina. All I could think about was how much of a bitch I was when I first started working for him, calling his show shit when it got that way because he realized he was stuck.

Stuck in a marriage he wanted out of.

Stuck to a wife who was using him for his money.

Stuck to a wife who was using his love for his _children_ against him.

And now, what? I was supposed to be the bad guy and work behind Edward's back to convince him to get a divorce? He was going to hate me for doing it. The only stipulation he had ever given me was to stay away from his family.

It was going to ruin everything. The minute I gave him a plan to be free from Irina he would be free to do whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted. And I was selfish enough to hate that.

He deserved his freedom, though. Because he was good. Good and kind and one of the only people in the world I had ever met that I could truly say that about. My life may have felt like it was going up in flames, but maybe I could help fix his in the process.

"You okay, Bella?" Emmett asked softly once I had doubled over, hands on my knees, out of breath.

"Fine," I grunted, fighting with the gloves on my hands until Emmett helped tug them off. "Thanks for staying."

"No problem. You sure you're okay?" he asked again when I grabbed my bag and fished out my keys.

"Yeah," I nodded. "People just… suck, you know?" It was a complete understatement of my current issues, but true.

"Yeah, I know."

I checked my phone as I walked to the door with Emmett, flicking off lights as he went. It was only about seven, but the gym should have closed by six.

**Come over.**

The message from Edward had been sent about twenty minutes ago.

The rational thing to do would be to end things now. Slow down and maybe let it fizzle out on its own. But, I knew better than to think I could ever make the rational decision when it came to Edward.

So, twenty minutes later I was pulling into his driveway, just as pent up and on edge as I had been all night. The worst part about the whole thing was I knew the second I saw him I would feel better. I would get lost in his mossy green eyes and know I was doing the right thing by helping him, even if it meant breaking myself in the process.

I watched him walk down the hall toward the door, cocky smirk on his lips. He was in a pair of simple, black swim trunks and his hair was dripping in his face. He looked like he was walking off of a photoshoot while I was covered in dried sweat in a black sports bra and leggings looking a mess.

"Wanna go for a swim?" Edward asked immediately, a boyish smile on his face.

I nodded, taking his hand and hating myself for immediately feeling better because of it. Once we were outside I shimmied out of my leggings, leaving myself in a pair of plain cotton panties and a sports bra.

Edward had already slid into the water, staring up at me as he stood easily in the middle of the L shaped pool. I sat on the edge of the pool, letting my legs soak in the water, and stared out at the city view.

"I have no clue what I'm doing," I admitted softly. I was already severely underqualified to be doing the job I was, and now Esme expected me to somehow work miracles and fix Edward's entire life. It would be overwhelming enough if all I felt for him was the sense of duty a typical publicist felt for a client, but I was far past that point.

My eyes dropped from the skyline down to where Edward swam up to me. His hands were smooth and warm on my calves in the water. He stood between my legs, rubbing comforting patterns into my skin and staring up at me.

"What do you mean?"  
"I mean… you have no idea how underqualified I am to be working for you," I said with a humorless smile down at him.

Edward shook his head and pulled me into the water gently. I latched onto him, suddenly exhausted, and let him pull me to the middle of the pool.

"I've been in this business long enough to know when someone is faking their way through things, and that's not you," he reasoned, hands pressed against my back.

I let out an involuntary snort which made Edward lean down and playfully nip at my shoulder.

"Thank you, Bella," Edward said softly.

I frowned. "For what?"

"For caring. For kicking me in the ass when I needed someone to. For… a lot of things."

All of my anger evaporated and I tightened my hold around his shoulders as we floated. My back ended up against the pool wall and I let myself sink into every toe-curling kiss Edward gave me.

This new development put a shorter timeline on how long we could keep this up, but I already knew my time with him was limited. I would take the smiles and wandering hands while I could. And I would do my damdest to make sure Irina's happiness was as short-lived as mine.

**-B-**

From the minute I got back Friday night up until my phone ringing Sunday morning, I worked. I read over every piece of legal jargon Alice had given me and done enough research that I could probably pass an intro to divorce law course if such a thing existed. I showered and ate here and there, got maybe an hour or two of sleep when I passed out over my computer, but most of the weekend was spent trying to piece together everything I could.

And still, by Sunday morning, the whole situation was no less a mess.

"Hello?" I grumbled into the phone, searching for my laptop charger that seemed to have disappeared.

"You sound like shit," Edward chuckled over the line.

"Thank you," I grunted, taking the distraction of his phone call as an opportunity to take a small break and collapse on my bed for a minute.

"I've been instructed to invite you over for an afternoon bar-b-que."

"Instructed?"

"My mother tells me I need to thank you for all of your hard work. Personally, I have my own ideas on how to properly thank you, but – "

"You have the mind of a hormonal sixteen-year-old, did you know?" I groaned.

"Must be because I live with two of them."

"So, your whole family will be there?" I questioned.

"Yes."

"I shouldn't."

"You don't have to be scared of them."

"I'm not scared," I replied defensively. "I just don't think it's typical practice for your mistress to be spending so much quality family time."

"You're not my mistress, Bella," Edward whispered harshly.

I sighed, wondering what the correct term for me would be if it wasn't mistress, and pressed my head into the pillow. My brain was fried and I probably wouldn't get much use out of it for the rest of the day anyway.

"What time?" I asked quietly.

"One," he answered, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

I was ready by noon, pulling on a striped white and grey wrap sundress and tying the knot tightly around my waist. I had managed to conceal the dark circles under my eyes and throw my hair in a braid before walking out past a lazy Emmett and Rosalie on the couch.

I stopped by the grocery and bought the ingredients for some smore's, not having time to bring anything more sustainable to the lunch. That's what people did, right? Bring food to gatherings?

I second guessed myself the whole way there, but carried the bag of chocolate and marshmallows and crackers up the walkway anyway. I watched Edward walk toward the glass door, very similarly to how I did a few nights ago, only this time he was much more clothed.

"You came," he greeted me with a surprised smile.

"I said I would," I mumbled, walking through the door.

"You tend to get skittish around other people," he mumbled, looking down at me with serious eyes.

"I'm not big on crowds," I shrugged, not having the energy or time to get into all of my issues.

Edward quietly stared at me, and I didn't like it at all.

"I brought stuff for smore's," I blurted.

"You'll be Masen and Lucy's favorite person today, then," he said with a smile, taking the bag.

I followed him through the house, toward the sound of booming conversation and ended up in the living room surrounded by his family. The topic at hand seemed to be Edward's birthday next week.

"I told you I'm not doing anything for it," he grumbled, falling into a chair.

"Oh, you have to celebrate your birthday," I uttered, my exhaustion helping me ignore my gut feeling of keeping my opinion to myself.

Alice patted the couch beside her and I sat down quickly, crossing my legs and fiddling with the fabric of my dress.

"See, Edward? Even Bella agrees," Alice added triumphantly. "He can be all grumpy and alone on his actual birthday, but seems to think he can ignore the party that's already planned for him on Saturday."

"I didn't realize you were so big on birthdays," Edward said, eyes far too intensely focused on me.

"I never used to be. Then my roommate converted me to be very pro-birthday celebrations."

I never cared about my birthday until Rosalie woke me up on my nineteenth wearing a party hat and covering my bed in confetti. _Birthdays are the one day a year where you can let go, Bella. The only person you have to worry about is you and what _you_ want._

Rosalie's tradition was choosing a seemingly odd theme for a birthday and figuring out every possible way to incorporate it. My birthday theme last year had been _cheesy 80s movies_ and we ended up doing everything from watching them to wearing the most outdated outfits to a skating rink.

"And if your birthday is in the middle of the week, you get two. It's a win-win," I shrugged.

"Can you come on Saturday?" Alice asked. "It's at our parent's house. You can bring your roommate, Rosalie, right? And her boyfriend."

There was no way I could say no, and if I was being honest with myself, I didn't really want to. I did kind of love celebrating birthdays if I cared about the person. Usually, that was just Rosalie. But, the average publicist should care about their client, so I didn't think it raised any red flags.

"Sure," I nodded, turning my attention over to Edward. "Are you actually going to show up?"

He playfully rolled his eyes, directed mostly at his sister I think. "I'll be there."

I smiled over at Edward as his mother and sister launched into a conversation about catering. I knew his birthday had been coming up and his present was already sitting on my desk at home. I had also made the impulsive order of a set of lingerie I still wasn't sure if I was brave enough to even try on.

"Uh, Dad?" Lucy's voice came from around the corner. All eyes turned to her as she came in, eyes on her phone. "You're trending."

My heart stopped and my head snapped around to her. "What?"

"It's all over the place. It's, um, hashtag… FireCullen."

I fished my phone out of my bag at my feet, fingers shaking as I pulled open every social media app I had. I clicked on the top article, my heart picking up speed as I read.

_Comedian Riley Biers went on a rant at his latest stop on his comedy tour in Boston Saturday night. Biers veered off topic and ended up slamming Tonight Show host Edward Cullen, a week after his successful stint hosting Saturday Night Live. He held nothing back, simultaneously calling Cullen overrated and yet unsuccessful at the same time. _

_ The most interesting tidbit of news he revealed was that he was first in line to take over when NBC outed Cullen in four months when his contract is up. Something neither Cullen nor NBC have made public just yet. _

_ Cullen has been the host of The Tonight Show for seven years. While ratings and viewer response to the show has been dwindling as of late, his appearance on Saturday Night Live seems to have given the show a new following, at least for the time being._

_ Representatives for both NBC and Cullen had not responded for a request for comment at the time of publishing. _

"Fuck," I snapped out, eyes darting up to the television plastered on the wall in front of us. Someone must have turned it on, an entertainment news channel was currently discussing the whole ordeal.

"Who the fuck is Riley Biers?" Edward grunted.

My eyes snapped to him and guilt flooded my bloodstream. Two nights ago, he was thanking me for everything I had done for him, and now we were royally fucked. This conversation would have been unbearable in any situation, but the eyes of his entire family, children included, made it nauseating.

"He's the networks top choice to replace you in four months," I mumbled.

There were a few gasps from his family before conversation broke out amongst them. I hunched over myself, burying my hands in my hair and wanting to pull as hard as I could.

This was the kind of thing I should have known about hours ago, but I was distracted by a million other things thanks to Alice and Esme. My mind was a mess, a migraine brewing in the back of my head.

A phone rang and I heard Edward mutter a curse. "Leon."

Head of the network. Right on time.

"Don't answer it," I snapped, a plan forming in my head. Everyone's eyes were on me, and usually that would make me cower away from doing just about anything, but I stared at the screen and listened to the reporter read a dozen different tweets claiming anyone but Edward hosting the show would be better and let it fuel my anger.

"He's out," I told him, pointing at the television. "The network isn't going to put that prick on television five nights a week if he can't keep his fucking mouth shut."

Edward nodded. "They'll just go down their list."

"Their list was shit. They were banking on Biers. He has a good following, goes on frustratingly successful tours, and hasn't had a big scandal. Yet. But, he's got to be out. Late night television isn't about personal vendettas, it's about everyone else's vendettas. This just shows Biers is more about his own drama. And now the ball is in your court."

I squeezed the bridge of my nose, trying to map out a plan in my head.

"This is the network's fuck up – letting him go out there and spill everything before they even told you. Four months isn't long enough for them to find someone else. If you play this right, you can probably have your contract renewed in the next twenty-four hours."

"It's got to take more than this guy going on a rant for them to forget replacing me completely," Edward said with a shake of his head.

"NBC is one of those networks that has built their brand on being a _family_. You could make things hell for them if you wanted to. You still have four months on the air."

"I don't want to blackmail them into keeping my job," he snapped.

And immediately I felt like shit. Because he'd been essentially blackmailed for the last seven-ish years.

"It's not…" _the same,_ I wanted to say. "It's not blackmail because you would never actually do it. And _we_ know that, but they don't."

"No offense, Edward, but your show has actually gotten a lot better lately," Jasper interjected. "And they'll see that. And hope it continues."

The rest of his family added similar comments, Masen and Lucy excluded. They both looked devastated, but I didn't have time to focus on it.

My phone started ringing and I blanched, seeing _Leon Woods_ on the screen.

"It's your choice," I told Edward quickly. "How do you want to play it?"

Mossy eyes stared me down for a moment, unsureness gradually turning into determination. "I want my show."

I nodded. "Okay."

I didn't have time to be nervous before answering the call. "Hello?"

"Ms. Swan. Leon Woods. I was trying to get ahold of Edward, talk to him about this little mix up."

I smiled wryly to myself. "He likes to enjoy his weekends with his family, especially after spending nearly every weeknight for seven years working for you."

Woods cleared his throat over the line. "Is he available tomorrow for an early morning meeting… to discuss his contract renewal?"

"Yes, he is."

"Alright. And we can count on you not to make any… waves until then?"

I nodded to myself. "As long as we can count on you to do the same."

I heard a deep sigh over the call. "Of course. Six sharp. I'll see you then, Ms. Swan."

The line went dead and I had seven sets of bright eyes on me.

"We have a meeting at six tomorrow morning to discuss your contract renewal."

His family was quick to cheer, but I shook my head. "That doesn't mean anything. Not yet."

"Not _yet_," Carlisle said with a bright smile. He and his wife knew the business, but seemed to be blinded by their love for their son in the situation.

I let my phone clatter to the coffee table in front of me, again reminded how unprepared I was for any of this. I should be sitting at a tiny desk downtown, writing mundane press releases for senior publicists. Not negotiating a multi-million-dollar contract or talking with the head of NBC.

I must have spaced out for a minute, because a delicate hand on my shoulder made me jump. Looking up, Esme was standing over me, a large glass of red wine in her hand. I took it gratefully, but her eyes said it was for much more than today.

"You're taking good care of him. Thank you," she said softly before returning to her husband.

**A/N: The big reveal. I would say at least half of the reviews I've gotten so far are about how stupid it is for Edward to still be married, so I hope this answers all those questions. **

**Sidenote: You can vote for **_**reputation**_** for Favorite Empire Records and **_**Hopeless Kingdom**_** for Favorite Undiscovered Gem at the twific fandom awards! Voting ends in a couple days if you wanna get a few more in!**

**I'll try my best for a Tuesday/Friday update next week, but I can't guarantee it. You'll for sure get one Friday, though!**


	15. Chapter 15

_It's funny how_

_The warning signs can feel like they're butterflies._

_~ Halsey, __**Graveyard**_

**BPOV**

I was in the shower by three the next morning, and managed to be out by three-thirty after only minorly considering calling Edward and telling him I was sick. Or dying. After talking myself out of that I ended up standing in front of my closet, wrapped in a towel, and hating every single thing I had.

Every dress was too short or too bright. Blazer's suddenly felt tight and constricting, and every pair of pants I put on wrong. It all felt too young and flashy and I didn't want to walk in with _just graduated _written on my forehead. After forty-five minutes of trying on nearly every item of work clothing I had, I ended up in a black pencil skirt with just the slightest checkered pattern and a flowy, white long-sleeved blouse.

I wasn't going to go through the same debacle for shoes, so I found a simple pair of black heels and carried them quietly through the house. Rose never worked Monday's and it wasn't even five so I didn't want to wake her.

Edward had offered to pick me up before I left his house yesterday, and I agreed without a second thought. I heard the engine just as I was locking the door behind me. After quickly sliding my heels on I walked down the driveway just as Edward was pulling up. He got out of the car with a smile, eyes scanning the house behind me.

"You look beautiful," he told me, holding open the passenger side door.

I froze in my path. "What? I – is it the hair? I thought up made me look older. Or, you know, I had this other dress that might – "

"It was a compliment, Bella," he chuckled. "You look tired and haggard and like you've been working for ten years. How does that sound?"

I nodded to myself. "Better, thank you."

Before I could slide into the car, my back was pressed against the frame, Edward's lips at my ear. "If we had more time I could fuck the stress right out of you."

I pushed lightly at his chest with a huff, angrily flicking the tip of his nose with my thumb and middle finger.

Edward pulled back, shocked and frustratingly amused. "Ow."

"Now is not the time for that," I grumbled, getting into the car. Once Edward was beside me and driving illegally fast down the empty street I asked, "Why aren't _you_ more stressed?"

"Because… I've done what I can. I'm the one that fucked up and let the show go downhill, then you had to come in and try to fix all of my problems. If I lose the show, I probably deserve to. But, if I keep it, I'll make sure I earn it back and do it justice."

I frowned to myself. "That's a very healthy way to look at it."

"How do you look at it?" he asked, eyes on the road.

"Like I've messed up every possible thing I could have. You could have had months more to get things under control, boost ratings, and have a show they didn't want to replace. Instead, I went and booked you on SNL and that spurred on Biers and…"

"It's not your fault, Bella. However it turns out," he added softly, a moment before his hand reached across the console and his fingers gently pried mine apart to squeeze my hand.

Hand holding was new. We were never really in a hand holding situation. It wasn't like we could walk to our cars together after work with our fingers intertwined or anything. And whenever we were alone we were doing much more than holding hands. I supposed if I got really technical he did hold my hands sometimes, when he was doing other things, too. But, that was different.

I squeezed his hand for the rest of the drive, trying not to think too much about just how comforting it was. It was still dark out when we pulled up to the large skyscraper, the sun just starting to lighten up the skyline. Edward's agent, Garrett, and lawyer, Laurent, were waiting inside the lobby.

"So, we're going in blind to possibly the most important meeting of your career?" Garrett asked as we all got in the elevator.

"We don't really have a choice, do we?" Edward asked.

A woman who looked about as stressed as I felt greeted us and ushered us into a conference room. The floor was full of dark blue carpets and frosted glass walls. The conference room had a large, probably eighteen-person table. Leon Woods sat near the center, four others surrounding him. Most probably lawyers, maybe a couple other higher ups at the network there, too.

"Edward, good to see you," Leon greeted, smiling and shaking Edward's hand across the table.

I repressed the urge to roll my eyes at his boisterous greeting, considering he had spent months looking to replace Edward in the first place. I sat down in a padded office chair beside Garrett, Edward was beside him and Laurent on the other side of Edward.

"Well," Leon started. "We might as well cut to the chase and tell you that the network has been looking for someone to replace you for quite some time."

"So I've heard," Edward answered smoothly.

"We thought so. Figured that was why you hired Ms. Swan."

"Your plan seems to have backfired on you a bit, Woods," Garrett argued.

"Oh, more than a bit," Leon cackled with a humorless chuckle. "Biers has become a big pain in my ass, trying to fight against his NDA, claiming he thought it was already a done deal and fine to announce whenever he chose."

"Not exactly someone you want hosting one of your networks most revered shows," I added quietly.

"No, Ms. Swan, it isn't. A Cullen, however… they're trustworthy, respected, a staple in the entertainment industry. Except when their show has been tanking for a solid two and a half years."

"Tanking is a little harsh," Garrett argued.

"He's right," Edward said with a shrug. "The show has been shit, but we're working to fix it."

"You need to do more than throw the camera a few smiles, Edward."

"He has been," I interjected, sitting up a little straighter in my seat. "The content has gotten an overhaul and he's working on bringing in some new writers for a better fit on the show. His episode of SNL was just the first part of a plan to let people see he's not who they've thought for the last few years… show them that he's worthy of an hour of their time every weeknight."

"And what are the other parts of your plan?" one of the other men asked.

"I can't give away all of our secrets," I countered.

Everyone got quiet after that. My eyes went from Leon to Edward and back again, knowing they were in the middle of some silent stand-off.

"I'll own up to my mistakes, and I can promise you I won't repeat them," Edward added sincerely. "I can get the show back to where it was, make it _better_ than what it was before. I just need time."

Woods sighed heavily, pulling a stack of papers out of a file in front of him. "We'll give you two more years. If we don't see steady, constant improvement in ratings…"

"Understood," Edward answered, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

"I'm not giving you more money, either."

"I don't need any."

It wasn't the best deal. Two years wasn't a long time, not in late night television, but it was the time he needed to get back on track. Laurent and Garrett started going over the nitty gritty of the contract but all I could do was breathe one big sigh of relief.

**-B-**

I collapsed in the passenger seat of Edward's car a few hours later, my head falling back against the headrest. The sun was officially awake and I was officially dead on my feet. My weekend had been anything but relaxing and the last twenty-four hours had been hell. It all somehow worked out in the end, but not after a hell of a lot of work and worrying.

It wasn't a perfect fix. But, anyone that was aware of the situation would have assumed Edward was out a long time ago, no matter what. Every senior publicist at Newton & Cheney assumed that, so much so that they all refused to even take Edward on as a client. I was well aware that there was still a lot of work to be done for Edward, but it was also a big step in the right direction.

I smiled across the car at Edward as he picked up his phone, immediately calling his family and telling them the news. One by one, I heard as his parents and sibling and children all reacted with similar excitement to his news.

"Bella," Edward's voice was quiet and close.

I jerked awake, frowning at him leaning over the console of the parked car. "I fell asleep," I mumbled, rubbing the corners of my eyes.

"You did. You're cute when you sleep, though," he added with a shrug.

My eyes went to the window, expecting to see the parking lot of the theater. Instead, we were parked in my driveway. I supposed it would save us from any questions, me driving myself. And save Edward from having to drop me off later.

"I'll see you at the theater?" I asked, grabbing for my bag at my feet.

"No," Edward replied simply.

"No?"

"I'll be at work while you go inside and relax. Is your roommate here?"

Ignoring the first part of his answer, I scanned the driveway quickly and noticed Rose's car was gone. "No."

Edward nodded, getting out of the car and coming around to open my door. I frowned up at him as he stood over me.

"I can just drive myself to work."

He knelt beside the car making me feel like a petulant child. "You're exhausted. You sounded like you hadn't slept since the last time I saw you when I called yesterday, and I'm pretty sure you didn't sleep at all last night, either."

"Well, no, but – hey!" I protested when he grabbed my bag from my feet and started walking toward the front door. "You're always stealing my stuff," I grumbled, quickly following behind him.

"Mmm. One of my favorite things to do, really. Though taking your bag is not nearly as enjoyable as taking your virginity was," he mused, seemingly unfazed by his comment as he rifled through my bag. "How do you find anything in here?"

I rolled my eyes, attempting to ignore the increasing burn in my cheeks, and reached in the bag and quickly pulled out my keys from their designated pocket. The action earned me a shocked frown from Edward as I unlocked the front door.

Rose and I weren't all that messy, a trait I was now eternally grateful for with Edward walking in the house behind me. Our house wasn't much, but it was nice compared to what it could be in Los Angeles. Coming in the front door we were met with the living room, an open concept that flooded into the kitchen to our right. My bedroom was down the hall, past the kitchen, and Rose's was across the living room. It was tiny, but enough.

"Will you take it easy today?" Edward asked, looking at me with genuine concern in his eyes. "Get some sleep?"

I frowned over at him. I understood that Edward cared about me on a basic level. I worked for him, I was sleeping with him, and we were friends. Kind of. Maybe. But it was the times where he did things like take care of me after the incident with my family or tell me I needed to take it easy… those confused me.

Because I cared about him. Much more than I should. And those moments fueled the irrational part of my mind that told me maybe he could care about me too. I would always come to my senses a while later, but it was a disappointing realization to have to make time and time again.

At the moment, I was too tired to get into it, though. Because he was right; I _was_ exhausted.

"Yes," I sighed, hopping up on one of the stools at the kitchen counter.

Edward came over to me, gently cupping my cheek. He smiled down at me, tracing a gentle finger over my nose. "Thank you. For everything. I wouldn't have these two years if it weren't for you."

"It wasn't me, Edward. You did all the hard work. I'm…" I sighed, dropping my eyes from his. "For what it's worth, I'm proud of you."

It wasn't worth much, I knew that, but I felt like it had to be said.

**-B-**

I walked into the theater with a smile on Wednesday. My day off on Monday had been surprisingly relaxing. I wasn't usually good with free time, but I was so exhausted I actually managed to relax. I slept and did laundry and cleaned my room. Maybe mundane things to most but I actually enjoyed it. By early afternoon a box of perfectly decorated chocolate covered strawberries was dropped off. A thank you note from Edward rested on top.

By that time, Rosalie had turned back up at home and I was grateful Edward had kept the note free of any of the innuendo's he seemed to love to throw at me.

Now, today was June twentieth which meant it was Edward's thirty-fifth birthday. I woke up in perhaps the best mood I had in months. Maybe it was still the high of pulling off what nearly everyone thought impossible a couple months ago, or maybe it was knowledge that Edward had already asked me to stay with him tonight.

Yes, I still had the job of coming up with a plan good enough to convince Edward to get out of his marriage, effectively ending any romantic relationship I had with him. But, I was looking past that for the day.

Because I loved birthdays. I couldn't do much to celebrate Edward's birthday without being blatantly obvious that we had a deeper relationship than the average client and publicist, but I could do a few things. Like pay the morning janitor to hang up the birthday sign over Edward's office door before Edward got in. And drop a few hints to the interns that an afternoon cake and celebration wouldn't be a horrible waste of time.

I smiled up at the sign hanging over Edward's doorway as I knocked and opened the door. My own coffee was sitting on the edge of his desk, but the Edward sitting behind the desk was most definitely the grumpy kind.

"Why so grumpy?" I asked, sliding the venti caramel Frappuccino across the desk toward him.

"I'm just… not a big fan of my birthday," he sighed, not even taking a sip of his drink.

I stared at him for a minute, wanting to ask why but knowing he probably didn't want to talk about it based on the look on his face. "I'll take the sign off your door," I muttered.

"That was you?" Edward asked, eyes surprised. It was better than the mopey eyes he had since I walked in.

"I paid the morning janitor to put it up before you got in," I admitted.

Edward was quiet, but his eyes didn't leave me. "You're big on birthdays?"

"Yeah," I told him with a smile, hoping my good mood might rub off on him. "Not until a few years ago, though. A birthday is all about you, and I never really had that before Rose. So… if _you_ don't want to do anything special for your birthday, you don't have to. I can return everything I got you."

I couldn't return one, considering I had it monogramed. And I wouldn't bother returning the lingerie because I was sure I could figure out another time to wear it. He took my bait just as I wanted him to, though.

"You got me something?" he asked, brows raised and eyes brighter than a moment ago. He looked every bit the excited birthday boy.

"A few somethings," I nodded, pulling out the wrapped box from my bag. "There's this. And the cake I convinced the interns to get for you this afternoon. And then something for… later."

Excitement danced behind his eyes as they darted from me to the box.

"It's your birthday," I smiled, pushing it toward him. "You can open it if you want. Or I can return it."

"Well played, Bella," Edward sighed with a smile before carefully tearing into the dark blue wrapping paper.

"I know it's not the most… exciting gift. But it's hard to buy for a man with infinite resources."

It was a leather, monogramed portfolio. Every day for the last week and a half I watched him walk into the writer's room, where he spent most of his days now, with a simple pad of paper and a pen. I thought the portfolio might help him enjoy writing a little bit more than he already was.

"You've been writing more," I explained, suddenly feeling like an idiot. "And I thought…"

"I love it," Edward exclaimed, running his fingers over his golden initials. "Thank you."

I smiled brightly over at him. "You're welcome. Do you want me to take down the sign? And cancel the cake?"

He sat back in his chair, portfolio in hand. "If I do that do I forfeit the right to whatever you bought for later?"

"No," I chuckled. "You can pick and choose whatever you want."

"We can keep it all," he said, eyes deep and intense on me.

"You're not going to hurt my feelings, Edward. If you don't want – "

"I want," he interrupted quickly, his gaze making me blush. "I want everything."

"Okay," I nodded with a smile. I pressed my lips together, wondering if I could control myself with giving him a simple, birthday kiss.

"Happy birthday!" a chorus of his kids' voices made my decision for me. They barged in his office, a trail of balloons and streamers in their wake.

I truly tried to hide my smile, but I didn't do a great job of it.

**-B-**

I second guessed myself the entire time I was changing. I never should have told Edward about the gift for later, because I didn't hear the end of it for the rest of the day. Whenever we were alone he asked about it, and as soon as I got to his place tonight he decided dinner was overrated and wanted his gift immediately.

All of the buildup made the couple scraps of lace seem stupid now. It was a gorgeous set of lingerie and cost more than my old beat up pick-up truck I used to have in Forks, but what if it wasn't enough? It truly was just a few scraps of lace arranged to fit a human body. I could admit the bra was beautiful, lace feathering down my ribs and cupping my breasts perfectly. But was it enough for the drop-dead gorgeous man waiting for me in his bedroom who was used to being with actual supermodels?

I wrapped a short, silk robe around my shoulders and took a deep breath before walking out. Edward was seated on the leather couch in the corner of his bedroom, crystal glass of amber liquid resting in his hand. He was still in his suit from earlier, only his coat missing. It was a grey suit tonight. He hadn't heard me come out, his eyes still out the window beside him that looked over the lighted city.

"Hi," I whispered, suddenly feeling nervous and stupid.

Edward's head snapped in my direction. Even in the dim light I could see his eyes look me up and down. He tossed back the rest of his drink, putting the glass aside and flashing me a crooked smile. "Hi."

Biting my lip, I scurried over to him, feeling a little ridiculous standing in the middle of the room alone. As soon as I was in front of him, Edward's fingers tugged at the hem of my robe.

"You got this for me?" he asked, his voice gruff as his fingers went from the hem up to the loose knot around my waist.

"Yes," I whispered, holding my breath as he tugged the tie, opening the robe and pushing it off of my shoulders.

After a mumbled curse, his eyes nowhere near my face anymore, I watched as he scrubbed a hand over his chin. It was a good three minutes before his eyes met mine again.

"You are…" Edward mused, hands finally gripping my thighs and pulling me down to straddle his waist. "The most stunning thing I have ever seen."

I sighed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes and settling for a small shake of my head. Warm fingers gripped my chin firmly, forcing my eyes to meet Edward's.

"You are," he hissed firmly, his eyes looking confusingly conflicted. "Bella, you're…"

I gripped the hair at the base of his neck, tugging lightly in the way I knew usually distracted him. I didn't want confusion or conflict in his eyes, not tonight. Pressing my lips to his, I finally seemed to break him out of whatever was distracting him.

His hands were firm on my hips while mine quickly worked on discarding his button down from his shoulders. His skin was warm and soft and when it was underneath my fingertips nothing else mattered.

I rolled my hips against his, smiling into the kiss when I felt him underneath me. Without a word I slid off of his lap, onto my knees on the floor. I pressed my lips together, focusing on undoing his belt and slacks.

I had only done the whole blowjob thing once before in New York, but I had done a bit of research since then. Once I had all of his clothing out of the way I ran my hands up his thighs, finally getting the nerve to look up at him.

His eyes were dark, never leaving my face as I gripped the base of his cock. The whole thing still kind of fascinated me. That _I _was the reason he was this aroused left a pit of pride in my stomach.

I kissed up the length of him before returning the circuit with my tongue. When I took the tip of him in my mouth Edward grunted out a curse, running his hands roughly through his hair.

"Bella," he groaned, hands clutched into fists by his side.

I took him in my mouth slowly, using my hand for what couldn't fit in my mouth. I scooted closer to him, enjoying the way his breath caught in his throat when I took him just a little farther down my throat.

Edward once joked that we needed to work on my stamina, and I was now very aware of just how excellent his stamina was. He seemed to be enjoying himself if the grunts and curses were any indication. His hands would push my hair out of my face every few minutes, sometimes knotting up the hair at the back of my head and guiding me up and down his length. It was a surprisingly arousing movement.

My knees were aching and my jaw past the point of being sore, but the sounds coming out of the man were too good to consider stopping.

_Fuck, baby._

_Look so good, your lips around my cock._

_Yes, just like that._

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, fingers tightening in my hair.

I moved faster over him, ignoring my instinct to cough every time he hit the back of my throat. My nails dug into his thighs and my eyes looked up to him.

"Fuck, I – you don't have to swallow, baby, I'm – "

I ignored his warnings and quickly swallowed around him. Sitting back on my heels, I ran my hands slowly along his thighs, enjoying the firm muscle underneath my hands. The sight of him… head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and breath coming out in pants was entirely too rewarding.

His eyes popped open and locked on mine immediately. "You look awfully proud of yourself."

"I am," I admitted, not able to control the smug smile on my face.

"Come here," he urged, holding his hands out for me to take. He situated me back in his lap, soft hands rubbing circles in my knees before he ran a finger across my lips.

Edward pulled me closer, his lips pressing against my neck. His hands slid up my thighs, leaving a firm squeeze on my ass before trailing up my waist and ended up tracing along the lace at my ribs.

"This," me mumbled against my neck. "Is the best birthday present I've ever gotten."

I snorted and shook my head, but got a sharp bite on my neck in retribution.

He cupped my breasts, his hands firm and tight. "Your tits are fantastic," he groaned, pulling the lace out of the way. His lips went straight to one breast, sucking my nipple in his mouth and immediately making me groan.

My hands dug into his hair, a deep moan escaping me when his other hand tugged roughly at my other nipple.

"Full, firm, natural," he mumbled to himself quietly. I missed half of what he said, because with each muttered muse he would squeeze or suck or bite and make my head go all fuzzy.

"Edward," I groaned, burying my face in his messy hair. My hips bucked against him involuntarily, meeting his already growing arousal again.

"It's my birthday," he countered, frustratingly casually as he dropped his hands from me completely. He sat back against the couch, eyes raking over my now-disheveled appearance. "Which means I get to do whatever I want, according to you."

I frowned at him.

He grabbed my ass, standing with no warning and making quick work through the space to toss me on the bed. He crawled over me, his hand splayed out along my stomach, traveling north and pressing firmly into my skin until he cupped the back of my neck, angling my face toward him.

"And what I want, Bella," he muttered, lips against my ear. "Is to taste every fucking inch of you until you're begging for me."

He crudely ran his tongue up my neck and along my jawline.

"I don't think… that will take a long time," I mumbled, digging my nails into his biceps as he leaned over me.

The last thing I remembered was groaning at the sound of tearing lace.

**-B-**

"You know," I mused, picking a piece of pepperoni off of my pizza and plopping it in my mouth. "I was a little offended at some of the music you put on my playlist."

I sat in Edward's bed, propped up against the headboard. Edward relaxed beside me, facing the opposite way on the bed so his head was at the bottom and feet at the top. I had pulled on his button down from earlier while he got the pizza, but Edward seemed content to have the thin sheet haphazardly thrown across his waist. The box of pizza sat between us, full of discarded crusts and napkins.

"What offended you?" he asked, frowning over at me.

"Well, the fact that you thought I had never heard of Bruce Springsteen was a little offensive."

Edward threw his head back with a laugh, tossing a half-eaten piece of pizza crust into the box. "I'm glad to know I was wrong on that front."

I picked at the half-eaten piece of pizza in my hand. There was a question I had been wanting to ask all day, but I didn't want to ruin his good mood. "Can I ask you a question, even if I know you don't want to answer it?"

Edward sighed, bright green eyes meeting mine. Thankfully, they hadn't yet lost the happy glow I was able to get out of him tonight. "Since I've been getting paid to do that to people for years, I suppose it's only fair I let you do the same."

I smiled over at him, hoping he wasn't using the joke as a defense mechanism. "Have you always hated celebrating your birthday?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes dimming but only a tad. He stretched out on his back, running his fingers through his hair a few times before answering. "No. I don't usually mind it, getting older. And I typically look forward to it. Ever since they learned to think about others, the kids always made a point of taking me out for lunch on my birthday, on them. I don't know how many birthday's I've spent slipping them a twenty at McDonald's so they felt like they did something for me," he laughed.

"Did they not do that this year?" I asked quietly. They had spent all day at the theater with Edward, and I could have sworn I saw them all leave around lunchtime.

"They did," Edward answered quickly. "And I didn't have to slip them the money and I got to eat something other than chicken nuggets. It's… I'm thirty-five. Closer to forty than thirty. And I'm just… pissed about it, I guess."

I stared at him for a minute, taking in the prettiest face I had ever seen and the sculpted chest that some men would kill for. His eyes were tinged with sadness, darting in my direction every few seconds before going back to an unassuming point on the ceiling.

Edward's age never crossed my mind all that much. Yeah, he made me a playlist that consisted mostly of songs that either came out when I was an infant or not even born yet. And some would argue that I would probably get along better with his children than I do him, but we never had awkward lulls in our time together.

"Thirty-five is hardly old, Edward," I told him softly. I got an incredulous look in response. "You've done a lot of things by thirty-five that most people don't have done by forty, but that doesn't make you old."

The incredulous look still stood, and I had to roll my eyes at it. "You raised two kids. You managed to go from an… iffy acting career to one that I kind of think you were made for. You have a beautiful house and a great relationship with your family," I sighed with a shake of my head. "You might be thirty-five, but you've already got a life most people wish they had by fifty."

Edward's frown started to disappear as I added one more thing to the list to lighten the mood. "Plus, you're sleeping with someone twelve years younger than you. Every man's dream, really."

He threw his head back with a laugh, the sound care-free and somehow instantly relaxing to me.

_I love you_.

The words floated through my head without any conscious permission from my brain and I froze. I had never said those words to anyone since I was old enough to understand what they meant. I certainly shouldn't be thinking them about Edward. This whole thing was supposed to get him _out_ of my system. I was supposed to get tired of him and bored and less interested the more time I spent with him.

I blinked a few times quickly, hoping the sudden feeling rushing through my veins would go away. Instead, I watched as he leaned up on one arm, smirking over at me and the thought glided through my head again. This time accompanied by a fluttering of the butterflies that had been noticeably absent the last few weeks.

_I love you._

The butterflies were _gone._ I hadn't felt them in weeks, maybe not since New York… Right? Edward said something, but I was too busy thinking over every possible moment they could have shown up.

And I realized they never left.

They were always there. All the time.

The more time I spent with him, the more used to them I got. And I only noticed them when they got exceptionally rowdy. Like they did tonight because I realized was in love with Edward Cullen.

I watched as he reached for the pizza box, eyes on me like he was waiting for something.

"Are you done?" he asked quietly, eyes now more confused than anything.

"Oh, um, yes," I mumbled, wiping the crumbs off my hands over the box as he took it away. Once he was out of the room I let my head fall in my hands.

Even as I tried to convince myself that I didn't love him; that I loved sex or the attention or anything other than _him_, a hundred reasons why those were all lies immediately canceled out every argument.

I loved him for the way he could carry a conversation with anyone easily, even someone like me who was usually a lost cause in that department. I loved him for how he listened to me and didn't immediately discredit everything out of my mouth. And how he put his family above everything else in his life, even himself. Loved his outlook on his meeting earlier this week, how he didn't obsess over every little detail like I did.

Loved the way he would smile at me. He had so many different ones; crooked and teethy and small or shy.

And I was pretty sure he had called me beautiful every day since that first night in New York. I wasn't even sure if my father had ever told me I was beautiful.

Yeah, part of what I loved about him was the sex. Because it was amazing and mind blowing and with _him_. And I loved how his eyes could give away everything about what he was feeling and the firm touch of his hands around my waist and the way his hair felt between my fingers but those were all bonuses.

Edward walked back in, smirking at me lying in his bed.

_I love you._

I wanted to roll my eyes at myself. Because I was… so fucking screwed. In every possible way.

Edward got into bed beside me, completely oblivious to the sudden panic in my head. So oblivious he pulled me down beside him, arms wrapped firmly around me, and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

All things that just solidified that stupid voice in my head that kept saying it over and over again.

_I love you._

_I love you._

_I love you._

"Bella?" Edward asked quietly, his voice slow with drowsiness.

I didn't trust myself to give him a real, verbal response. "Hmm?"

"Thanks for today," he said softly, almost like he was unsure of himself. "Especially tonight," he added with that hint of humor I had come to love.

_Fuck._

"You had a good day?" I whispered.

"Yeah," he nodded against me, another kiss pressed to the top of my head.

I buried my head in his chest and squeezed my arms around him as tight as I could. Truth was there were probably three people in the world I would have gone through the trouble of doing anything for their birthday, so I should have realized this whole _love_ thing sooner.

"Good," I sighed against him, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest.

_Because I love you_, I added silently in my head.

**A/N: I'm not sure when the next update will be. I barely have the next chapter started and with everything going on it's been pretty hard to focus enough to write anything. That being said, I will try as hard as I can to keep things flowing. **

**Please stay safe, stay inside, stay as healthy as you can. **


	16. Chapter 16

**BPOV**

I spent a couple of years talking to the UCLA school therapist when I was there. She was a nice woman, just recently graduated from the school herself, with pitch black hair that complimented her tanned skin. She had thick rimmed glasses and sad eyes once I spit out my experiences with my mother and Tyler.

Doctor Young listened to me spill everything once I couldn't hold it in any longer, praised Rosalie for giving me an outlet and told me my anger at being pushed aside by my parents was completely justified. She also told me it left me with about a dozen other issues I never really thought too much about before.

I had always been quiet but she made me realize my parents never listening to me left me with the idea that no one cared about what I had to say. After years of keeping to myself in high school and cringing every time a teacher called on me in class, I could give her that one.

It also left me with a short fuse for the few occasions I did speak up for myself and someone would shoot me down, even if I was wrong. Like when I snapped at Edward one of the first times we met. It was something I actively worked on these days, especially in a professional environment, but it was still there.

Doctor Young had a notebook of other things we talked about. Scars my upbringing left me with.

I didn't date which was probably my subconscious being uncomfortable around men after my childhood with Tyler.

I couldn't carry on the simplest of conversations, again going back to the feeling of no one being interested in anything I had to say.

I worked hard at my schooling and subsequent work, not always because I wanted a good grade or praise, but because I didn't want to end up thinking about other things.

Like how utterly alone I had felt since I was a child. How desperate I was to be able to go out and not feel like an idiot. How scared I was of never being good enough for anything or anyone.

It would be a hell of a lot easier to let go of Edward if he didn't seem to make all of those things go away. He made me feel like I could talk to him and trust him and fall in love with him without a second thought.

And I hated him for it.

But, also loved him.

In the two days since his birthday it had floated through my head every time I saw him. Whether he was at his desk in the morning or filming in the afternoon. Especially Thursday night when I ended up spending all night in his bed. It was always there. As were the butterflies, which I now realized never went away in the first place.

I opened Edward's office door Friday morning, using my trusty defense mechanism of focusing on work rather than my own mountain of problems to get through the day. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He smiled over at me, gesturing to the seat in front of him. "Of course."

I put his coffee down in front of him, carefully sliding the iced coffee he had waiting for me to the side. I pulled out my tablet from my bag, opening up to my list.

"Do you remember in your contract meeting, when I said I had plans for showing people the change in you?"

"Yes," Edward nodded.

"I lied. I mean, I do have plans. But it's kind of like a toddler planning on becoming president one day kind of plan," I blabbered on, rolling my eyes at myself. "I mean, they're not _that_ out there, but – "

Edward smiled softly over at me, patiently waiting for me to put myself together.

I took a deep breath and shook my head. "What I mean is, I have plans but I didn't want to overwhelm you with them. I know the whole publicity thing doesn't interest you."

"It doesn't," Edward agreed. "But I know it's necessary. I've posted on Instagram twice a week since you told me to."

I must have done a horrible job at suppressing my grimace.

"What?" Edward asked with a frown.

"Nothing, it's just… a while back you posted a picture of your feet, I think you were on one of your lounge chairs in your backyard."

Edward nodded. "I did. Lucy told me it was 'very instagramable'."

I pressed my lips together, suppressing a laugh. "It was an excellent picture," I agreed, stalling for what I really had to tell him. "And it ended up on about twenty foot fetish websites. I had to have some very interesting conversations to get it taken down. Including one where someone offered to take it down if I sent them a picture of my own feet."

His expression was comical, somehow morphing between horrified and amused. "Please tell me you didn't."

"I didn't," I sighed, shaking my head. We had gotten too off topic. "But it's more than posting a couple pictures whenever you feel like it. I didn't think a hard and fast approach was something you wanted."

His eyes got dark and distracted me, yet again, from what we should have been talking about. I had actively shut down every non-work related thought since walking in here, but it was evident Edward wasn't following the same practice.

"Nothing wrong with hard and fast," he mused, his voice slow and a few octaves deeper than usual.

Any other day I would have taken the innuendo and gone along with it, laughed and enjoyed the fact that the man in front of me wanted me. Every passing day that excitement evaporated and turned into gut-wrenching sadness because I loved him. And he wasn't mine and could never be mine.

I dropped my eyes from his and scrolled through the list on my tablet. "We need at least a couple magazine covers to start off slowly. I wasn't sure if you had any preferences – "

"Are you alright?" Edward interrupted, frowning over at me.

My eyes reluctantly went up to his. "I'm fine."

He cocked his head to the side, staring at me. Like he knew what every twitch of my lips or arch of my brow meant. "You're very… professional, today."

"I'm your publicist. I should be professional," I mumbled.

Edward sat back for a minute, eyes on me in a way that was entirely unprofessional.

"I trust you," he said somberly eventually. "Whatever you think is right, we'll do."

His words made a knot of guilt form in my stomach. I was taking his trust and throwing it down the drain by working on what his mother asked me to. By having all of these feelings for him and still going along with this employee-with-benefits thing.

I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep it up.

**-B-**

"Where are you going?" I asked Rosalie from the kitchen. It suddenly seemed like I hadn't seen her for longer than an hour in weeks. I couldn't talk to her about what I needed to talk about, but I had thought she was staying here tonight.

"Emmett is taking me out to dinner. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon so we can get ready together," she said quickly, coming in and grabbing a carrot off of my plate.

It was a pathetic dinner of some questionably old chicken and vegetables, but I didn't have the energy to do much else after the week I'd had.

"Is that okay?" Rosalie asked, eying me and my silence.

"Yeah," I answered quickly, pushing my chicken around with a fork.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Rose."

"I've been gone too much," she said quietly, sitting at the counter beside me. "I just got distracted with Emmett, I guess."

"I'm not your responsibility, Rose. You don't have to feel guilty for being happy," I told her sincerely while also despising the fact that I couldn't do the same. The source of my happiness was wrapped in a package of guilt and lies and adultery.

"You _are_ my best friend, though. How about next weekend we lock ourselves inside with some junk food and a few movies?"

"Sure," I smiled. "Tell Emmett I said hi."

"I will. See you tomorrow."

Once Rose was gone I pushed my half-eaten plate away and wandered into my room, my eyes zeroing in on the stack of papers I had out on my small desk. Most of my free time had been spent working on Esme's little assignment, something I realized this morning when I was talking to Edward about what I _should_ have been focusing on.

But, that meant I had made a lot of progress. Progress that meant by this time next week I could probably talk to Edward about it. And if I talked to Edward about it, it would effectively end every good part about our relationship. Hell, probably every bad part about our relationship, too. He'd probably request someone else from Newton and never want to see me again.

I couldn't figure out what hurt most, though. Was it worse to be around him every day and never have what I so desperately wanted now, or to be cut off entirely?

The question had me sitting in the middle of my bed with a bottle of tequila I was pretty sure we'd had under the sink since my twenty-first birthday. Over the course of the last two hours I had finished the bottle, gotten every piece of Edward's life out of my sight and hidden away in my bag, and come to the unwanted realization that my time with Edward was over in a week.

Seven days.

Seven nights.

All gone.

That was how I ended up stumbling down his street around midnight.

I stood at his driveway, frowning at the intense closed gate in front of me. It was always open whenever I drove up.

After only dropping my phone twice I ended up waiting for Edward to answer.

"You have a very large gate," I blurted out as soon as he answered.

"Bella?"

"I've never seen it before. Every time I come here it's open. I didn't even know it existed. I mean, it's smart. Because people are fucking creepy. But – "

"Are you here?"

"Yes," I mumbled. "Masen and Lucy are still at your parents', right?" I had a vague recollection of him saying they were staying there, getting ready for his party tomorrow.

"Hold on."

The line went dead and I paced back and forth in front of the big gate. I crossed my arms over my chest, phone clutched in my hand, barely staying on my feet when the gate started to move with no warning.

I happily slipped through it as soon as it was open wide enough. My feet got a little tangled walking up his walkway, but I kept my eyes on them and managed to stay upright. It just meant I jumped when I looked up and Edward was already standing there. Leaning against the sleek black doorframe in nothing but sweatpants.

"Hi," I whispered.

"Are you drunk?" he asked, a cute little frown on his face.

_Pretty face. So pretty._

"Just a little bit," I shrugged, squeezing past him to get inside.

"Did you drive here?" His voice was harsh and angry now. His face was still cute, though.

"_No_," I answered dramatically, wandering down the extravagant hall toward his kitchen. "I got an Uber to drop me off two streets over. I'm not stupid. I mean, I am. In a lot of ways. But I'm not _that_ kind of stupid."

Once I got to his kitchen I tried to remember where that wine refrigerator was. I had seen him get something out of it before. That first night I stayed here. "You had some kind of… magical, hidden wine refrigerator somewhere in here."

A warm hand gripped my bicep and turned me around. I smiled up at him happily, even though he was frowning down at me.

_I love you._

"You got in a car with a stranger at midnight and then stumbled around the neighborhood drunk?"

I got distracted by the sparkly green eyes and pouty lips that I wanted on mine. They tasted delicious and felt just as good and I only had seven days left to enjoy them.

"Bella," Edward demanded, his voice hard and the sparkly eyes turning dark. "You could have gotten hurt."

I snorted loudly, which only got me a deeper frown from Edward. "My safety is… the least of anyone's concern, Edward."

Edward let out a heavy sigh. He grabbed my hand and I followed without a second thought. His chest was deliciously bare and his sweatpants hung low on his hips, so I had an excellent view of the little dimples he had right where his –

"Sit," Edward said sternly.

I frowned at the white padded stool in front of the second island in his kitchen. I hesitated a moment too long because Edward's hands wrapped around my waist and lifted me up.

"Stay."

I sighed again, tossing my phone onto the counter and watching as Edward walked through the kitchen. "What were you doing?"  
"Reading."

"What were you reading?"

He answered me, but I didn't understand half of the words out of his mouth. He ended up in front of me again, hovering over me with a frown on his face and a glass of water in his hands. "Drink."

I took a small sip before setting it back on the counter.

"Was there a specific reason you risked your life to come over tonight?" Edward asked softly.

I shrugged, not looking him in the eyes. My brain was fuzzy and confused and I didn't want to talk.

"Bella," Edward coaxed, lifting my chin so I had to look at him.

"You…" I sighed, trying to figure out what it was that led me to start the trek here in the first place. I was sad and alone and drunk and then I was here. Still sad and drunk, but a little less alone.

"You make things better," I admitted quietly. I ran my hands down his chest, quickly distracted by the way his bare skin felt underneath my fingertips.

I love you.

I hate you.

I want you.

Maybe it was my history of irrational anger or maybe it was the alcohol, but a wave of frustration flowed over me. _I_ wanted him. Not for his money or name or anything other than the fact that being around him made me happy. Irina _had_ him because she was using his emotions against him, scaring him into thinking she could keep him from his children or ruin his fragile career.

It wasn't fair that I was born twelve years too late and that I worked for him. Or maybe he was born twelve years too early. Either way, none of this was fair. It was especially unfair that in a week he would probably hate me. And I would still love him.

My mind was jumbled mess on the subject sober, add in alcohol and it left me on the brink of losing it. I ignored everything else and stretched myself up to reach his lips. It was all I wanted since I stumbled past him. It was why I wandered over here at midnight. It was probably the only reason he tolerated me in the first place.

I smiled against his lips when he moaned into the kiss. It didn't matter that Irina had his name or that he had a list of other women from the past. I was the one that got his moans and smiles and kisses. For now. Mine, for now. My desperation got the best of me as my fingers excitedly slid down his chest.

"Bella," Edward sighed against my lips, taking my hands gently in his and pushing them away. "You're drunk," he said softly, running a gentle hand down my cheek.

"I'm fine," I argued, trying to pull him closer.

"Baby, you zigzagged down the hall like the room was spinning."

Rejection rolled around in my stomach. My cheeks heated up and my eyes dropped to the ground.

"I should go," I mumbled, grabbing my phone off of the counter and hopping off of the stool.

"Bella – "

"I'm sorry for coming over so late," I stuttered, opening up the Uber app on my phone and wandering in the direction of the door.

"I'll drive you home," Edward sighed, snatching my phone out of my hand.

The rejection sobered me up quickly, and I wanted as far away from the situation as possible now. "No, I already ruined your night. I can get myself home, Edward."

Edward ignored me, keeping my phone and only way out with him as he went upstairs, probably for some kind of shirt.

I stood awkwardly by the front door, feeling more like the chastised child than I would have liked. It was only a minute later that Edward came down, fully clothed, handing me a plain forest green sweatshirt.

I looked down at myself as I followed him out to his car. Comfortable black t-shirt and worn out jean shorts. I rolled my eyes to myself and shrugged on his sweatshirt.

The car ride was quiet. I was too mortified to say anything and Edward was probably too mad at me to want to make conversation. He handed me back my phone after I got in, and that was it.

I jerked awake when I was suddenly airborne.

"It's okay. It's just me," Edward whispered.

Stupid as it was, I relaxed against him and let my eyes fall shut again. I was too tired now to be mortified by the whole situation and enjoyed the way his arms wrapped tightly around me.

Once we were inside I pointed lazily in the direction of my bedroom, sighing happily once Edward set me down gently.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, kicking off my shoes and collapsing back into the bed. "I ruin everything," I groaned into my pillow.

"Get some sleep, Bella," Edward said quietly, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of my head.

I pulled my quilt around my shoulder and turned on my side, watching Edward leave. He stopped in the doorframe and I saw his outline in the moonlight as he ran a hand through his hair before turning around.

Edward dropped his t-shirt on the edge of the bed and crawled in beside me. He pulled me around to face him and I buried my head in his neck. I wasn't sure what made him stay, maybe I had drunkenly asked and didn't realize it. Whatever it was, I was glad for it. Because I had a limited number of nights left with him, now.

I had to squeeze my eyes shut to keep the tears away.

**-B-**

"So, Emmett and Embry are thinking of opening up another gym," Rosalie told me, sitting beside me on the couch the next day.

Edward had been gone when I woke up. A glass of water, two aspirin, and a note saying he would see me tonight were left on my nightstand. In the light of day, I felt like an absolute idiot. The rejection, the stupid comments that kept falling out of my mouth, the whole night was just a reminder to both of us that I was more of a hassle than I was worth.

My morning of pampering with Rosalie was a good distraction from last night, though. Especially with Edward's birthday party looming over my head tonight.

"Really?" I asked, surprised. I knew the gym was successful, especially considering there were a hundred and one other options for gyms in the area, but they had only been open three or four years.

"Yeah. They've been looking at locations for a while. They actually want to meet with you, pick your little marketing and public relations degree holding brain."

If I didn't currently have a hardening face mask on that made it impossible to show any emotion on my features, I would have looked surprised. "Really?"

"Of course. You've managed to turn Cullen around, and I can guarantee Emmett and Embry won't be so difficult. They just want some advice."

"I can do that," I nodded.

"So, how has it been with him lately?"

My stomach tensed and I was now grateful for the inability to move my facial muscles. "It's good. A lot less stressful now that he has two years to turn things around and not two months. I think I'll be able to step back from him in a week or so."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'll still have a lot of work to do for him, but I don't have to be there every day to make sure he stays on track, though."

_And once I talk to him next Friday he's not going to want me around, anyway._

The rest of our afternoon was relaxing. Full of painted nails and moisturized skin, all while I teetered on the edge of wanting to come up with some kind of illness and genuinely wanting to go celebrate Edward's birthday.

Rosalie had picked me out a beautiful, emerald green dress. It was silky and fell straight down to my knees with a cowl neckline and thin straps. She was in a black number that fell to the ground, but the slit up her thigh kind of hindered the modest length.

The party was being held at Carlisle and Esme's home. It was perched high up on a hillside, probably with an even better view than Edward's place. Where his home was sleek and modern, his parent's place was elegant and classical. The kind of place you'd see in a movie and assume it was all a set. It was all sturdy brick and big columns from the outside, probably sleek marble and decorative chandeliers on the inside.

Emmett parked his jeep and we were met with a valet and a woman with a clipboard frowning at us.

"Name?" she snapped.

"Um, Bella – Isabella Swan."

As soon as I said my name her entire demeanor shifted for the better and she walked us all to the front door. Emmett, Rosalie and I let out matching curses as soon as we entered the house.

Out of the three of us, Rosalie was probably the most used to this kind of lifestyle. Her parents had never struggled for wealth. Both of them came from wealthy families already, then her father made it big on Wall Street.

She'd had a good childhood in New York City, mostly thanks to the nanny's and maids they hired that raised her. Her parents didn't abuse her or anything equally horrible; they were just never around. They did give her a hefty trust fund, though. To my knowledge, she had never touched it.

It was one of the first things we bonded over, Rose and I. The fact that we both chose UCLA because it was about as far away from our families as we could get. Still, catching her in the corner of my eye I could tell she was completely at ease in the extravagant house.

The foyer did have an extravagant chandelier like I had guessed, and it morphed into what appeared to be a cleared out living room with tall ceilings and enough space to fit probably five of my place. Maybe more.

"We need drinks," Emmett mumbled. "Bella?"

"Will you just get me a soda with some cherries?" Alcohol definitely wasn't a good choice for me tonight. Or any night, really.

"So," Rosalie said with a smile as we wandered through the crowd. "I finally get to meet the illustrious Edward Cullen."

"You have to be nice. This is a work thing for me," I reminded her even though it was hypocritical as hell for me to warn her about mixing business and pleasure.

"I'm always nice," she added with a smirk.

"Bella!" Alice's squeal seemed to reverberate throughout the whole room a moment before I was wrapped in a tight hug. "You made it!"

"Of course," I told her with a smile.

"I love your dress," she sighed happily, stepping back and eying me up and down. She seemed just a little tipsy.

"I can't take credit for it. Rosalie chooses about eighty percent of what I wear," I chuckled. My eyes drifted to Rosalie, who gave me an odd glance before she turned to Alice. The two of them, and subsequently Emmett who didn't leave Rosalie's side, immersed themselves in a conversation about fashion that was completely over my head.

A quiet voice floated behind me. "You look beautiful."

I turned and Edward was there, looking surprisingly relaxed for a man who didn't want anyone celebrating his birthday. He was in black slacks and a black button down, probably the most casually dressed person here. Still, the sight of him kind of made my mouth water.

"Thank you," I whispered quietly, taking a sip of my drink. Edward raised his brows at me and I sighed. "It's just soda."

"Good," he sighed, his eyes… confusing. Somehow bright and sad at the same time.

"Um, this is my roommate, Rosalie Hale. And her boyfriend, Emmett McCarthy," I said quickly, not wanting to think about last night more than I already had.

"Pleasure to meet you," Edward said happily, shaking their hands. I wanted to snort at the way Rosalie's eyes widened as she looked at him. "Bella's told me a lot about you."

Rosalie blushed and Emmett chuckled.

"You were great on SNL, man," Emmett said.

"Thanks," Edward smiled, taking a sip of an amber liquid in his hand.

"Happy birthday!" Rosalie blurted out. It was like we had somehow switched places for the night.

"Thank you," Edward repeated.

"Didn't mom want you to introduce Bella to Renata, Edward?" Alice asked. "We were in the middle of an important conversation."

"A discussion on New York Fashion Week does sound life altering," Edward snipped back. "But, yes, Renata is dying to meet you, Bella."

"Um, Renata Serrano?" I asked Edward as I followed him through the growing crowd. People smiled and patted him on the shoulder as we walked, but it was all I could do to keep my drink from slipping through my fingers.

Renata was a legend in the publicity world. She worked with the Cullen's and a hand full of other high-profile clients as well. She worked at Newton & Cheney but everyone knew she was miles above the firm.

"She's not going to bite," Edward chuckled. "I've known her since I was twelve."

"Oh, I know. Esme and Carlisle took time off when you and Alice were kids and most of their previous team either retired or gave up on them. Renata took them on and has done… amazing things with them. And do you remember a few years ago when whats-her-name started that online smear campaign against that one girl? And Renata – "

"You're fucking adorable when you get all excited about public relations."

I sighed and pressed my lips together.

"Oh, there she is!" Esme exclaimed when we approached where she was standing with Carlisle and Renata. "Ren, this is Isabella Swan. Bella, this is Renata Serrano."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Serrano," I said as calmly as I could, shaking her hand.

Esme was in a stunning, shimmery gold dress with her auburn hair in an intricate knot at the base of her neck. Renata was beside her, in a simple black dress with her equally dark hair in a pony tail. Carlisle pulled Edward into a conversation.

"You can call me Renata, Bella," she said kindly. "You just started at Newton & Cheney, correct?"

I nodded.

"Tell me, is Newton still as big of misogynic pig as he used to be?"

My eyes widened and mouth fell open. There were ears all over the place here, and I was sure Newton knew practically everyone in the room. Still, even though I had only been working at the firm a few months, interning only a couple months before that, I couldn't help but agree with her.

"You can add nepotistic to the list now, too," I added softly. I rarely went into the office these days, but I was going to be spending a lot more time there in a week or so. I went in maybe once a week to talk to Newton about Edward and our progress, and every time I went in Mike, his son, was either asleep at his desk or flirting with one of the newest interns.

Still, he was probably getting paid double what I was.

"Oh, God. There's two of them?" Renata asked with a humorous frown.

Twenty minutes later I washed my hands in the head-to-toe marble bathroom. I was somehow not nearly as uncomfortable here as I usually was at anything resembling a party. I managed to make conversation with Renata and Esme without thinking twice about it and even took a compliment from her without turning bright red.

My good mood was immediately crushed when I walked down the hall, back toward the party, only to be met with Irina walking toward me. She was annoyingly beautiful in an icy blue gown that matched her eyes.

"Isabella," she said with fake politeness.

"Ms. Denali," I replied, nodding at her as I passed her.

Sharp nails dug into my arm, keeping me from walking away. "It's Mrs. Cullen."

Her nails stinging my arm fueled my response. "We both know that's not really true."

Irina looked me up and down, an air of superiority flowing off of her. "I see the way you look at him, sweetie. I can hardly blame you. He's great in bed, so fuck him out of your system if you have to. But, I will _always_ be Mrs. Cullen."

I bit my tongue, anger welling up inside me, but I knew snapping back wouldn't do any good. Irina turned and sauntered down the hall and I rounded a corner quickly, pressing my back to the wall and taking a few deep breaths.

I couldn't even be offended at her suggestion, considering that was what I had been trying to do for weeks. Maybe it would have worked if I hadn't had the butterflies to deal with.

I felt my phone vibrating in my clutch and pulled it out, frowning when I saw Edward's name on the screen.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?" he asked, whispering slightly.

"Um, your birthday party."

"Where in the house, Bella," he clarified, and it was like I could hear him rolling his eyes.

"Oh," I mumbled. "I just left the restroom."

"Perfect. Go all the way down the hall to the left. There'll be a staircase in the back to the basement."

"Edward, I – "

"I'll be there in two minutes."

The line went dead and a moment later Irina walked past me, completely unaware I was hidden down the hall, smiling to herself as she rejoined the party.

Maybe she was right. She very well could always be Mrs. Edward Cullen and there wasn't anything I could do about it. I let out a heavy sigh, following Edward's instructions until I ended up in the basement.

Just the term _basement_ implied something dingier than the plush carpet and fully stocked bar, or the cozy couches and game tables. I was running my fingers along a wall full of movies when soft classical music suddenly started flowing through the room.

I turned around quickly and Edward was standing by the far wall, cabinet open to reveal an intricate sound system.

"Hi," I whispered, walking over to him slowly.

"Hi," Edward copied, grabbing my hand and pulling me to the open area in the middle of the basement. "Dance with me."

I dropped his hand quickly. "Oh, I can't dance."

"It's my birthday, though," Edward argued with a smile, making me regret ever letting him in on my birthday motto.

I pressed my lips together. "I've never danced with anyone before," I admitted. It wasn't like I ever went to school dances or anything. Where else did you ever dance?

He gave me a small smile, hands dropping to my waist and lips falling on mine. Without thinking my arms reached up around his shoulders, fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his neck.

"Not so bad, is it?" Edward asked, resting his forehead against mine as we swayed slightly back and forth.

"I guess not," I gave in.

"You didn't feel too horrible today, did you?"

"Huh?" I frowned for a minute, then remembered the fool I made of myself last night. "Oh. I'm really sorry about last night. I don't… handle tequila well, apparently."

Edward sighed, a hand coming up to tilt my face until my eyes met his. "Are you okay, Bella?"

There were a hundred different ways to take the question, all with varying answers as to why I wasn't okay. Currently, I was still a little frustrated that his _wife_ had just told me I could fuck him out of my system.

_Why are you still married to her?_

The question was on the tip of my tongue, but it would open up a discussion I wasn't sure I was ready for yet.

Instead of doing the mature thing and simply asking the question, I pulled his lips down to mine. It was the kind of moment a girl dreamt about from the minute she realized boys didn't have cooties. Soft music playing, gentle hands on my hips, and lips so soft I had half a mind to ask Edward what he put on them to make them that way.

It did nothing but make my heart hurt. Until shocked voices came from behind me, then my heart started pounding.

"Holy shit."

"Oh, my God."

I jumped away from Edward, wiping my fingers over my lips and staring wide eyed at his children. Frozen on the stairs, probably just as wide eyed as me.

"We were just coming down to get away from everyone upstairs," Lucy mumbled.

"What the hell?" Masen asked at the same time.

I backed up a few steps, panic setting in, and jumped when I bumped into Edward's chest. Something about touching him, even accidently, while his children stared at us, horrified, made me panic even more.

"Fuck. Sorry. _Fuck_," I stammered, pushing away from him.

"You two are fucking?" Masen asked loudly.

"Hey," Edward snapped. "You know better than to talk like that."

"Oh, sorry. Don't want to offend your _girlfriend_."

"You should go back upstairs, Bella," Edward said quietly. His hand rested on my back for a moment, but I jumped away.

"Shit. Right. Sorry," I stuttered, grabbing my clutch from the table beside Edward. I chanced a quick look at him, but his expression was unreadable.

I muttered another apology as I walked past Lucy and Masen, but neither acknowledged it. The arguments started as soon as I was hidden halfway up the stairs.

"You're fucking your publicist?" Masen's voice was harsh and deep.

"First of all," Edward said, his voice saturated with the authority Masen's was trying to find. "Watch your language. Second of all, you know her name."

"She's our age, Dad!" Lucy exclaimed suddenly. She had always seemed reserved and quiet whenever I was around her, but maybe that was just situational.

"Christ, she's six years older than you both. This isn't up for discussion. I'm sorry you had to walk in on it but you're not going to treat her any differently. Bella has done a lot for me and my career – "

"So, what? You're repaying her by – "

"Masen, one more word out of your mouth and you're not leaving the house for a month!"

I took a deep breath and felt my cheeks to make sure they weren't too flushed. I didn't want to eavesdrop. It didn't really matter, anyway. Our affair had an expiration date from the very beginning, and we were in a single digit countdown now. Still, the next week probably would have been more relaxing had his children _not_ walked in on us.

Once I felt as composed as I could get, I wandered back upstairs and zeroed in on Rosalie immediately. I had done enough damage here tonight, enough to remind myself for a long time that parties were never worth the trouble.

**A/N: I hope this update finds you all well and provides a few minutes of distraction from the world right now. Updates will continue to be a little sporadic, but they will always come eventually. **

**A heads up: there are probably about five chapters left, but there **_**will**_** be a sequel. :)**

**As always, thank you for your continued support. Every review makes me smile and I hope you're all staying as safe as you can right now. I'll see you soon.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: as much as I know we could all use a happy, lighthearted story as a distraction, I do have to issue a tissue warning for this chapter. Remember, I'm a baby and I'll always give you an HEA… eventually. Carry on.**

_After all this time you give me butterflies, butterflies_

_Why'd you lie? Don't hurt my butterflies, butterflies_

_Watch them die, you killed my butterflies_

_~ Gabbie Hanna, __**Perfect Day**_

**BPOV**

Walking into the theater Monday felt kind of like walking toward a guillotine. I hadn't heard anything from Edward other than his two-word text response to my apology late Saturday night. I told him I was sorry, he said _me too_, and that was it. The rest of my weekend had consisted of Rosalie berating me for not telling her how pretty Edward was before hand and letting her make a fool of herself in front of him. Looking back on the party, Rosalie's uncharacteristic floundering in front of Edward was probably the highlight.

I would have been much more worried about the whole situation if I wasn't already coming to terms with the end of my time with Edward. I hated that I was partly responsible for the arguments I was sure Edward was having with his kids, but there wasn't much I could do about it now.

All I could do now was walk into work and spend the next week finishing what I started. There were just a couple more things I needed to get done before I could confidently leave Edward to his own devices.

I knocked softly on his office door, opening it slowly without waiting for a response.

"Hey, I…" my voice trailed off as I walked in and was met with identical glares from Masen and Lucy.

"Oh, sorry," I mumbled. I stood awkwardly in the doorway, feet teetering back and forth. "I had some things to talk you to about, but it can wait. Um, work things. Things for work."

I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head at my own stupidity. "I'll be in my office. When you can talk. About work."

"It's okay, Bella," Edward said softly.

I let my eyes meet his and for about three seconds, everything was fine. Then, a muttered "Bitch," came from Lucy's direction.

My stomach fell into my gut and my eyes dropped from Edward's immediately. I had moved on from the whole _home wrecker_ concept a long time ago. It was a hard thing to look past when I had Edward's kids staring at me like I ruined their lives, though.

It was something I was so familiar with, too. I watched my mother build a new family with another man and his son. I knew the feelings of betrayal that went in with that. Granted, my parents were divorced at the time and one of them wasn't already living with someone else, but I was sure the feelings were similar. It wasn't a connection I had made before. And I didn't like it.

"Lucy," Edward snapped.

"It's okay, Edward," I sighed. "I'll be in my office when you have time to talk."

I closed the door tightly behind me, ignoring the raised voices as I walked away. Once I was in the sanctuary of my tiny little office, the sight of an iced coffee on my desk made me want to burst into tears.

I set Edward's forgotten coffee down on my desk and dropped my bag at my feet. I stared at the iced coffee in front of me and wondered how my life had ended up this big of a mess.

The simple answer was a pair of bright green eyes and a crooked smile. The long answer was I was a girl with more self-doubt and insecurities than I knew what to do with. Then a guy came along who smiled at me and called me pretty and made me feel more positive emotions than I knew what to do with.

The door opened slowly and Edward walked in. He said nothing, shoving his hands in his pockets and staring at me from across the room.

"I'm sorry," Edward admitted quietly, eyes soft and sad. "For what Lucy said, for Masen's reaction last night."

"It's okay, Edward," I mumbled, keeping my eyes down.

"No, it's not," he responded quickly, voice harsh. "They know – after everything – it's not okay."

I wasn't sure what to say, especially not knowing how exactly their family dynamic worked. I had done as asked and stayed out of his personal life as much as I possibly could have. I never asked him about Irina and I had only spoken to his children a handful of times. I had a hundred and one questions about the whole thing, but I kept my mouth shut. Even when it killed me to do so.

"Thanks for the coffee," I sighed, finally picking up the cup for a distraction.

"Back at you," Edward smiled, finally walking over and taking his cup off of my desk. After a long swig he sobered up again. "You don't have to worry about them. They're being… difficult right now, but they'll get over it."

I gave him a small nod, even though I wasn't sure if I believed him.

Edward grabbed a random crate that had been discarded in the corner of the office, bringing it in front of my desk to sit on. "You said you had something to talk to me about?"

"Oh, yes," I mumbled, rifling through my bag to find the paper I needed. I pushed it across the desk toward Edward. "These are your options for cover stories. Journalist, photographer, dates, and their pitch are all there for you to choose from. I need you to choose two, maybe three in case one falls through."

I gave him a minute to look over the paper.

"Very thorough, Ms. Swan," he said softly.

"I, um, put stars next to the ones I would choose, but you can choose whatever you want. They're all good options. Just let me know in a few days which you want to do."

"Okay," Edward nodded. "Thank you, Bella."

I expected him to get up and leave. Instead he sat on that uncomfortable crate with his eyes never leaving me. Maybe he was in here hiding from his kids or maybe he got that same sense of comfort from me that I got from him.

Whatever it was, the few minutes of peaceful silence together was nice.

**-B-**

"Are you okay?" I asked softly. I tucked my feet underneath myself on Edward's couch, facing him as he sat next to me. The last few days had been a bit of a mess.

Edward's kids were always hovering around the theater, so I kept mostly to myself in my office. I was genuinely busy, so it was a good distraction. This would be my last week spending so much time at the theater, and I wanted to make sure writers wouldn't revert back to their old ways or anything like that. It helped immensely that Edward had made the decision to fire James and a couple others that seemed to be leading the group down the path to some bad decisions.

Between Edward and I there was this new, uncomfortable tension. Like a countdown was constantly ticking in the background whenever we were alone. Which wasn't often thanks to Masen and Lucy hovering around.

As much as I understood their shock and confusion at the whole thing, at the end of the day they spent a majority of their time with their mother and her boyfriend. I was by no means Edward's girlfriend, but why was it so outrageous that Edward have someone?

I had gone home alone and resigned to the fact that our weekly Wednesday night together wouldn't happen. Then, I got a text from Edward a few hours later and was at his place within the hour.

That ticking time bomb feeling was still floating around us, and Edward answered the door with a glass of something strong smelling in his hand.

Green eyes fluttered over to me, looking heavy and tired. "Not really."

"I'm sorry," I muttered, tugging at the hem of my dress.

Edward shook his head sadly, finishing his drink with a large gulp. He leaned forward, the glass clattering to the coffee table before he ran his fingers frustratedly through his hair. "You don't have anything to apologize for, Bella. Christ, I should be apologizing to you. The way Masen and Lucy have been acting around you…"

I dropped my eyes to my lap. I had gotten glares from them every time I saw them, grunts in response every time I tried to say something to them, and had heard more than a few mutterings from them as I walked by.

"Can I… ask you something you probably don't want to answer right now?" I whispered, my curiosity getting the best of me. Edward nodded and I continued. "I understand having an issue with a parent being with someone else, but… they live with Irina and her boyfriend a majority of the time. I'm not saying I'm… that we're… But why are they so okay with Demetri?"

Edward let out a heavy, deep sigh before standing up and grabbing his glass. He wandered off to the bar behind us, glasses clinking as he shuffled through his stash. "Do you want a drink?"

"No, thank you," I sighed, assuming he was going to ignore my question.

Edward sat back down, full glass in his hands. "They've known Demetri their whole lives," Edward admitted quietly. "He had been my best friend since I was ten."

I suddenly felt about as defeated as he sounded.

"He set Irina and I up on our first date. He was my best man at the small wedding my mother put together for us… Shit, he was probably one of the first people to hold Masen and Lucy after they were born."

I shook my head as he kept going. "You don't have to… I understand."

"He's always been family to them. And… as fucked up as the situation is, I know he cares about them. I wouldn't just let my kids go live with a guy Irina picked at a whim."

I swallowed thickly, finally understanding the situation a little bit more. And I hated it. Didn't want to think about it anymore.

"I'm sorry I lied to you, that first time you asked about him. Technically he is our neighbor, but…"

"It's okay."

We were both quiet for a while again. I leaned against Edward's side, resting my head on his shoulder while we both stared out the large glass window in front of us. We were sitting on the same couch I first met with him on. It was amazing how many wonderful, confusing things had happened since then.

I supposed, even though I was about to lose one of the only good things that had ever happened to me, there was still a lot of good that had come out of the last couple of months. I was more confident in my work, a little better at speaking up for myself in a healthier way, and I realized my upbringing hadn't killed any possibility that I could love or trust another person.

I rested my chin on Edward's shoulder, turning my head to look up at him. "You're very handsome," I sighed at the same moment the thought crossed my mind. It wasn't supposed to come out of my mouth.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Edward responded without a moment of hesitation. He downed his drink and smiled over at me.

I lifted myself up and over him, resting my knees on either side of his hips and my arms on his shoulders.

Edward tossed his empty glass to the side of the couch, cold hands running along my thighs. "This… is like something out of my fantasies."

I cocked my head to the side, staring down at him. I thought men's fantasies were supposed to be much more scandalous than a girl in a sundress on their lap. "It is?"

"Mmm," Edward sighed, hands getting much more brave and sneaking higher up underneath my dress. "I've wanted you like this," he said, accentuating his words with a tight squeeze of my ass, pulling me hard against him. "Ever since the first time you sat across from me on this couch."

My frown got deeper. That was the second time I ever saw him. I could have overthought his admission, wondered if the only reason he ever listened to me was because he wanted me naked, but all of it was inconsequential now.

I leaned into him, my lips barely brushing against his. "So, take me."

Edward let out a groan before attacking my lips with nipping teeth. His hands were desperate but surprisingly soft at the same time. Squeezing my thighs, pulling my hips against him, trailing up my torso only to play with the fringe of fabric along the top of my chest.

"What else happened in your fantasy?" I asked, my last word coming out with a gasp as he pulled at the top of my dress. It was a simple, wrap summer dress. Easy to throw on after I had already changed into sweatpants earlier, and even easier to take off. My head fell forward against Edward's shoulder at the same moment he tugged at the tie around my waist.

"I've thought of it all, baby," he sighed, both hands coming up and cupping my breasts. "Every way I can get you to moan my name."

My fingers dug into his shoulders as my hips continued to rock steadily against him. I involuntarily moaned his name when his lips replaced one of his hands on my breast. I got my payback, though, when my hand slid between us and he groaned against my skin.

"Stand up," he grunted, landing a gentle swat on my ass. I could have sworn he muttered an apology before continuing. "Take off your dress."

I did as I was told, standing from Edward's lap and quickly letting every fabric on me fall to the floor. All while watching Edward toss his t-shirt behind the couch and kick his jeans to the floor. It was _quite_ the sight.

I never would have thought watching a man touch himself would be a pleasant sight. Watching Edward, hand on his cock, as he ripped a condom open with his other hand left me squeezing my thighs together, though.

Edward leaned forward, hand immediately going between my thighs, smiling up at me as two fingers easily slid inside me. I had to brace myself against his shoulders to keep upright.

"Come here," he said after a few minutes of delicious torture.

I threw myself at him, lips going directly to his. I didn't want to talk or think anymore, so I quickly lined myself up and dropped my hips down on him.

"Fuck," Edward grunted out, head falling back against the couch. His hands were tight on my waist, eyes squeezed shut.

The undiluted pleasure on his face sent a shot of pride filled pleasure through my own veins. I leaned back, one hand bracing myself against his knee while the other dug into the hair at the base of his neck, rising and dropping myself over him. It didn't take long for my even breathing to turn into huffed pants.

Even as I did my best to clear my mind of every fucked up facet of our situation, I got an odd sense of clarity on that couch with Edward. I knew I was finally doing the right thing, for both of us. He deserved to finally move on from everyone that had screwed him over the last sixteen years, and I deserved to stop torturing myself every time I saw him.

I whimpered his name, my head falling back, feeling that wonderful tightening in my abdomen. It was enhanced by Edward's hand making a slow path from my navel, up between my breasts, until his fingers gently traced over my lips.

"I've waited so long for you, baby," he muttered, eyes clear of the haze they had just a few minutes ago. "So long."

I buried my head in his neck, muffling the embarrassingly loud moans that escaped with my release. In my head, I could take his words and make them mean he wanted _me_. Waited for me, somehow knowing I was looking for him, too.

Reality… now, that was a different story.

**-B-**

My inherent ability to make any situation awkward as hell had come back with a vengeance. It had never really left, but it was never usually around Edward. Now, it was ten times worse around him. If I passed him in the hallway I couldn't look him in the eye. The only time I wasn't stuttering over myself was if we were talking about work, something he seemed less and less interested in the last couple days.

I was almost relieved that I had everything ready to go to tell Edward tonight. Relieved and soul-crushingly depressed, but still a little relieved. Because I had spent the last two days reliving every possible memory I had with Edward, wondering how I had gotten into this mess in the first place.

The whole love thing… it was never supposed to happen. I had grown up with the mindset I was unlovable. My mother certainly didn't love me, and my father was too busy with more important children to ever think about me. I always thought it had left me with the inability to love in return. Because I hated… everything.

Not so much anymore, I got over a lot of my anger a long time ago. But I used to. I hated the kids I had classes with and my freshman year professors and basically everything until Rosalie kind of kicked me in the ass and told me to get over it.

But I didn't _love_ anything. I liked my job. Liked going to the gym and reading the occasional book when I had time. The closest thing I had to someone to love was Rosalie, in a purely platonic way, but I had never thought too much about it in that way before.

Somehow, despite all of that, the butterflies in my stomach knew the second I set eyes on Edward that I loved him. And I knew even after I killed them all tonight, I would still love him.

I sat in the same spot I did the first night I met Edward, on the small couch in the back of his dressing room, waiting for him to finish up for the night. I clutched my bag to my side, my entire plan for Edward neatly stacked inside of it.

The sight was familiar, Edward walking in and tossing his mic at someone out the door. He wasn't frowning this time, though. He smiled at me in the mirror, taking a large sip of water in the process.

"Hey," he sighed, turning around to lean against the counter behind him.

"Hi," I mumbled, standing up and securing my bag around my shoulder. "Can I come over tonight? Not for… I have a few, um, work things to talk to you about."

Edward looked at me, eyes full of questions, but nodded his head. "Of course."

"Thanks," I sighed, heading for the door.

"Bella," Edward called before I could reach the handle. His hands cupped my face, my breath catching in my throat when he kissed me.

I gave in quickly; my arms falling lazily around his shoulders and enjoyed the moment while I could.

Forty minutes later I was walking into the house behind Edward, met with a couple frowning teenagers.

"What's _she_ doing here?" Masen grumbled.

"We have some work to discuss," Edward said sternly. He pulled out his wallet and tossed a credit card at him. "Order some pizza, we won't be long."

With a hand on my waist Edward led me upstairs. I hesitated as he walked toward his bedroom.

"I promise to be on my best behavior," he told me with a smirk.

We ended up at his sitting area, Edward the picture of ease on his leather couch while I sat in a chair across from him. My fingers fumbled with the papers in my bag for a minute before I had them all in my lap.

I looked up at him, taking in what would probably be the last genuine smile I got from him. "A lot of what I'm about to say probably won't come across great because of the fact that we're sleeping together," I admitted, fiddling with the stack of papers in my hands. "But, that doesn't change the fact that as your publicist and, hopefully, as a friend I want you to be happy."

Edward frowned, head cocked to the side, and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

I took a deep breath before ripping off the band-aid. "A few weeks ago, your mother and sister invited me to lunch. They told me everything," I confessed quietly, ignoring Edward's sharp intake of breath. "That you nearly filed for divorce years ago, that Irina's basically blackmailing you with your children. Your mother is scared you might get back together with her once Masen and Lucy turn eighteen."

"Hell will freeze over before I – "

"I know," I interrupted quickly, feeling like he was choosing that part to address because of our affair. "Everyone knows you've made yourself miserable for years to try and make your kids' lives easier, but you can't keep going like this, Edward."

I leaned over and handed him the stack of papers. "This is kind of a game plan. Press releases, statements, worst-case-scenario headlines and such and what your response could be to them. I can't predict the future, but it'll get bad," I shrugged. "You know that, it's why you put it off for so long. But, Masen and Lucy are sixteen and you deserve to move on with your life."

"Bella, I – I can't," Edward groaned, eyes still scanning the papers in his hands.

"Yes, you can."

His eyes shot up at me, so sad I wanted to cry. "No, I – When Irina told me she was pregnant, I tossed some cash at her and told her to get rid of it. I was young and cocky and simultaneously thought it was my decision to make and not my problem at all. I eventually got my head out of my ass and Irina didn't… But, _Christ_, Bella, I owe her everything for not doing what I said."

It seemed like the final puzzle piece in the mystery of why Edward was still allowing himself to be dragged down by Irina. Some decades old guilt for a very warranted over-reaction by an eighteen-year-old. If there was one thing in the world Edward loved, it was his children. Even when he was mad at them, as it should be.

I had promised myself I would keep my distance from him, starting with this conversation, but he looked so sad I couldn't help but fold myself on the couch beside him. "You don't owe her anything, Edward."

He quickly started shaking his head.

"Yes, it was a wonderful thing that Irina didn't do what you told her to and I'm sure you've thanked her in a million different ways for that. Anyone that knows you knows that you love those kids more than anything else in the world. But, all of that doesn't mean you have to sit back and punish yourself for the rest of your life for a stupid fight you had when you were eighteen."

His head slowly turned toward me, eyes glistening and looking far too lost.

I wiped my thumbs under his eyes. "If anyone deserves to be happy, it's you, Edward."

I almost didn't catch it in time. The movement was so subtle, so natural for us these days, that I nearly fell into the kiss as soon as he leaned in. I pressed my lips together, quickly standing up from the couch.

"That's… that's the other thing I have to talk to you about," I mumbled. This was the hard part. The band-aid that would be a real bitch to pull off, one that would leave a stinging red mark on me for a long, long time. "We can't… see each other like that anymore."

Edward's eyes snapped to mine, sadness still swimming in them but a new glint of shock behind them, too.

"I know your divorce, if you choose to go through with it, might not go all that smoothly and I don't want to cause you any issues. And… You don't need me hovering around the theater every day anymore. I already talked to Newton about it and I'll start working from the office again Monday. Your show is good, your writers are good, and you know what you have to do, now."

Edward's frown got deeper as I turned to grab my bag from the floor. I had everything, word for word, memorized in my head. Had gone over it for hours every night this week, and hated every minute of it.

"I understand if you want someone else to handle all of that," I sighed, motioning toward the stack of papers still in his hands. "I think my job is pretty safe so if you want to request someone else… I understand. All of that is yours, theirs if they want to use it."

Edward dropped the file to the couch, standing far too close to me. "Just because I won't see you every day… I still want you, Bella," he whispered, grabbing my hand.

It took every ounce of will power I had to pull my hand away and take a step back. "I can't," I choked out, not doing a very good job at keeping my emotions out of my voice.

"Why?" Edward challenged, voice desperate.

"Because I love you," I blurted out, feeling a tear slide down my cheek. I sniffled and wiped it away angrily. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for ruining everything. I know this was just sex and I'm not telling you this to make you feel guilty or anything. I didn't make that plan because I had some grand ideas of you leaving her and choosing me, so please don't look at it like that."

An odd mix of the anger I was so familiar with and a crippling surge of sadness overwhelmed me. "It was those fucking butterflies… I didn't know what they meant and I didn't realize until it was too late and now it's just kind of killing me every day."

I took a deep breath, taking another step back from Edward for good measure and wiping away a few more fallen tears. I didn't have the nerve to look at him, not after everything I had said.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, walking away without another word. I had my hand on the front door handle when Masen and Lucy rounded the corner.

"You ruined everything, you know," Masen grunted.

"We had a good routine. Mom and Dad finally stopped screaming at each other every time they were in the same room. Dad was happy – "

"He's not happy," I snapped, frowning at both of them. "You have no idea how many years of his life he's sacrificed so your lives could be easier. You think this little dynamic you guys have is normal? You think your father is happy not being able to move on from a woman who has kept him trapped for so long?"

I shook my head and opened the door. "You can hate me all you want, but the situation was fucked up long before I came along."

I let the door slam shut behind me and hurried over to my car. Blinking away a few tears in the process, I fumbled with my keys in the ignition for a moment before managing to get it to start. I caught a glimpse of unruly copper hair by the front door, but I couldn't bring myself to get a good look at him.

**-B-**

I was proud of myself. I managed to get to my car without breaking down, and then I drove home without tears blurring my vision. All in all, a massive success considering my mind was occupied by the image of sad green eyes the entire drive home.

Walking into the house, I had enough energy and mental stability to make it to my bed. I tossed my bag in the corner, curled into a ball underneath my comforter, and proceeded to torture myself with every wonderful memory I had of Edward Cullen.

_"Who the hell are you?"_

_ "You're not the only one who has done their research. Isabella Swan, twenty-two and daughter of Charlie and Renee Swan. Divorced, but both remarried with multiple children."_

_ "I used to love it. I loved writing the show, learning about all of the guests, making people forget their problems for an hour each night."_

_ "She didn't just walk into the fucking wall."_

_ "I'm sorry your parents are… fucking vile. But, I'm not sorry you're here."_

_ "Would you like to go to dinner?"_

_ "You're so fucking beautiful it hurts."_

_ "I enjoy you. And I think you enjoy me."_

_ "I don't want her. I want you."_

_ "If I were a better man, I would leave you alone. Let you get on with your life and career. Instead, it is taking every ounce of my willpower not to drag you into the bedroom behind me."_

_ "You're going to go and get this date over with. And then, you're going to come to my place, and I'm going to fuck you until you forget his name."_

_ "It's… I'm thirty-five. Closer to forty than thirty. And I'm just… pissed about it, I guess."_

_ "Just because I won't see you every day… I still want you, Bella."_

The whole stupid story ran through my mind time and time again. Weeks of research on the man and I was supposed to hate him on sight. He was supposed to be arrogant and selfish and a hassle to work with. He wasn't supposed to be sweet and kind and protective. He wasn't supposed to make me feel like… me.

It wasn't fair. Life had never been fair or kind to me but this was really, _really_, unfair. Everything in me told me he was supposed to be mine. He was supposed to smile at me with that crooked smirk and hold my hand and tell me silly jokes to make me feel better.

But, _he_ didn't have that same feeling and it was so fucking unfair.

"Hey! Sorry I'm late, but I picked up sustenance for the weekend. What do you… Are you okay?" Rosalie's voice started out chipper and excited, getting tinged with worry and confusion as I heard her walk in my room.

I felt the bed dip beside me. She flipped some of my hair out of my face and I used most of my energy to open my eyes and look up at her.

"What happened?"

I sniffled loudly, burying my head in my comforter to wipe away the embarrassing tears. There was no use in lying to her anymore. "I've been having an affair with Edward."

It was freeing, finally saying it out loud. Devastating that the reason I could say it was because it was over, but nice to not have to lie to Rosalie anymore.

Pale blue eyes stared down at me, wide and confused. "How long?"

"Since New York," I admitted, wiping away more tears that seemed to keep multiplying.

Rosalie sat up beside me, fidgeting a little in her place. "Did he… do something? Hurt you?"

"No," I answered quickly. "I, um, ended things."

Things were quiet for a few minutes before Rosalie quietly asked, "Why?"

"Because I love him," I whispered, my voice cracking. "But, he's not mine to love."

**A/N: apologies again for the delay. I hope this chapter finds you all well and gives you a few minutes of relief from the world today. Next update will be as soon as I can, I promise. Thank you for every review, they truly make my day. Especially these days. Stay safe and I'll see you soon!**


	18. Chapter 18

_We used to be close, but people can go_

_From people you know, to people you don't_

_And what hurts the most is people can go_

_From people you know, to people you don't _

_~ Selena Gomez, __**People You Know**_

**BPOV**

I didn't have enough fingers to count how many times I had hoped for the normalcy my life once consisted of the last few months. I would constantly long for time when my days were consumed by school and my biggest worry was passing an upcoming exam, not my secret affair with my married client getting exposed.

I had that level of normalcy again. I woke up. Went to the gym, albeit more and more begrudgingly, every day. Then I walked into work where I had been harshly demoted to my true, entry-level position of junior publicist. After eight hours of a frustrating but thankful reprieve from my nightly thoughts, I went home. Ate dinner. Refused Rosalie's offers to talk or go out or do anything.

I told myself I was fine. I gave myself two days the weekend I ended things to mope. I didn't leave my bed for nearly forty-eight hours and I cried more often than not, but they were selfish tears.

This was what Edward needed. The freedom to start living his life how he wanted it, not how he thought he owed it to other people. Even though I knew I was going to be kind of miserable for a while, it was a big comfort to know that maybe I had started him on a road to eventual happiness.

The vision of Edward being happy with someone else also sent this stabbing pain through my chest. I was working on the whole selfless thing, though.

"Hey, Bella?" Ben Cheney asked, coming to lean over my tiny cubicle wall. "Can I get your opinion on something?"

Ben was also the son of the boss, the Cheney half of Newton & Cheney. John Cheney had done a much better job at raising his son than William Newton had. Ben worked as hard as anyone at the firm, and did it with a smile on his face. I had known him for years; we started at UCLA together and, being on the same career path, ended up in a lot of the same classes. We interned here together, and started at the same time.

"Sure," I answered, saving the document I was typing up.

"I'm working on this press release for Kyle's client. What's a polite way to say _sorry I've harassed half of my female staff_ without actually saying it?"

I shook my head at his description, but it was pretty spot on. Ben handed me what he had typed up so far, but before I could start reading the whole office's attention turned toward the door.

I noticed Mike's desperate voice first. "Mr. Cullen, it would really be easier for everyone if you – "

"I don't care about making things easier for you," Edward grunted.

I held my breath, watching him stand at the front of the office and look around. He was wearing a pale blue button down, tucked into his jeans with his sleeves rolled up. And he was pissed if the deep wrinkles between his brows were any indication.

Once he locked in on me his entire demeanor softened as he maneuvered through the office. With the pressure my teeth were gnawing on my bottom lip, I was lucky it wasn't bleeding by the time he got to me.

"Sorry to interrupt," Edward said politely, looking at Ben. "Could I talk to you for a few minutes… Alone?"

My answer came about twenty seconds later than appropriate because I was still a little shell shocked at his sudden appearance. "Um, yes. Sure."

I stood up rather clumsily. Bumping my knees on my desk and almost tripping over the chair beneath me, but once I was on my own two feet I pointed across the office, toward a couple of conference rooms.

"Is everything okay?" I asked quietly, closing the door behind us. I turned to face him, expecting an answer, but he was quiet. Leaning against the large table, arms crossed and eyes on me.

"Sorry for barging in," he said softly.

"That's okay."

Edward's voice was flat and low when he spoke. "Did you ask to drop me as a client?"

I frowned and answered quickly. "No." The puzzle filled in pretty quickly, though. "Newton wants Mike to take the credit for everything now that you're an easier client."

"He's trying to give his son the credit for your work?"

I shrugged. "Probably. Mike does the bare minimum. Newton would love his name on a successful client, if only to make himself look better."

Edward sighed. "I thought you… maybe you changed your mind," he said quietly.

I swallowed back a lump in my throat and took a moment to convince the stinging behind my eyes to go away. "No, I – As long as you're okay with me being your publicist I will be. But… maybe this is a good thing. I mean, I don't think you should choose Mike because he's a fucking idiot, but there are plenty of other – "

Edward's vehement shaking of his head stopped me. "I trust you. Not them."

His eyes softened, never straying from my face. I could imagine I looked a little bit like a deer in headlights or a scared puppy because I knew what was coming. I crossed my arms over my chest, digging my nails into my skin as a distraction.

"I know this isn't the time or place for this discussion but I… I don't want to hurt you, Bella," he said softly. "I need some time to – "

"I'd rather… not have to think about what I said that night ever again," I admitted. "I'm sorry. I- I shouldn't have said _that_. And I know where things stand between us. I just…" I sighed, not really sure where I was going. "Can we forget I ever said it? Go back to how things were before New York?"

In my mind, I imagined a flash of hurt behind Edward's eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, please."

Edward nodded. "Okay."

"So," I mumbled, looking for anything else to change the subject to. "How long did Mike last before you kicked him out of the theater?"

Edward sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "About three minutes. Kid's a real prick. I walked in this morning and he was sitting with his feet on my desk."

"The show's desk?" I asked, getting a nod in response. That was one of Edward's most coveted possessions. He had a real thing about other people touching that desk for one reason or another.

"I'm surprised he made it here in one piece, then," I added with a genuine smile. I got one from him in return, too. One that made that made my heart twist in my chest and remind me that I just promised him I was fine, that I could go back to how things were. There couldn't be playful conversation or knowing smiles, not anymore.

I pressed my lips together, erasing my smile completely. "Was there anything else you needed?"

"No," Edward sighed, the momentary playful glint in his eyes disappearing. Before I opened the door, he whispered, "Thank you… for not changing your mind."

**-B-**

I sat in the same audience chair I once spent an afternoon working in. The theater was bustling with people, none of which were familiar. It was Saturday so the regular faces I had grown accustomed to seeing were probably enjoying a relaxing weekend at home. The new faces roaming around were the film crew brought in by Rolling Stone.

It was quite the get, a Rolling Stone cover. Especially because Edward wasn't a musician. They did a handful of non-musical stories on a regular basis, but you had to really work with them to get a non-musical cover. Thankfully, the name Cullen opened a lot of doors.

There would be a few video specials for their online article, filmed this morning before Edward and the journalist sat down for their in-depth interview this afternoon. All part of the plan to show the public the softer side of Edward that had been forgotten in the last few years.

I had talked with Edward sporadically in the few days since he showed up at the office. Topics for the interview were approved in between awkward silences over the phone. All in all, a pretty sucky week preceded this pretty sucky weekend.

There was a commotion to my right and I saw the familiar group walk in. Edward hovered over most of them and as soon as I saw his messy copper hair I turned my attention back in front of me.

The two weeks since I had ended things had done nothing for my infatuation. I missed the way I could sometimes feel him smile into a kiss and the conversations about nothing we would have in his bed at three in the morning. I missed how he made me not feel so uncomfortable in social situations when he was around. And I missed the way I had deluded myself for a month into thinking he was kind of mine.

I jumped at the sound of my name. "Bella?"

Of course, Edward stood in front of me. Tall and wearing a t-shirt that left the impressively sculpted muscles on his biceps free for everyone to see.

"Hi," I mumbled, sitting up in my uncomfortable audience chair.

"You're here early."

I shrugged. "Bobby let me in."

"Bobby?" Edward asked, brows raised. "The janitor?"

I nodded. Bobby was probably the nicest person in the whole building. He said good morning to me, without fail, every day when I walked in. He knew everyone's name and what they did. Would talk to you if he thought you were having a bad day, which was pretty common for me since I was in love with my boss. He vehemently fought me on paying him to hang a birthday sign over Edward's office for me, until I finally won.

"Um, is that okay?" I asked, frowning at _his_ frown. "I thought you knew I'd be here. I can leave, if you really want. The journalist could try and pull one over on you, though, and I – "

"I'm glad you're here, Bella," he interrupted softly. "I actually had something to talk to you about, if you had time."

"Oh, sure. Um, in your office?"

Edward nodded and I got up quickly, grabbing my bag and following him through the familiar hallway. We walked past his dressing room and I saw Alice surrounded by racks of clothes, Masen and Lucy with her.

I fidgeted once I sat in the chair across from his desk. My dress was navy blue with a large, dark green checkered pattern. It had a modest, high neckline and I had the sleeves rolled up, considering it was July. The hem of it would be destroyed by the end of this meeting.

Edward let out a heavy sigh before starting. "My lawyer is filing the divorce papers on Monday."

I froze for a moment, staring over at him, surprised he was actually doing it. In the back of my mind, in a place where I never let my mind wander, I had convinced myself that he still loved Irina in some way. That had to be why he stayed married to her for so long, even while she was off with Demetri. Maybe he had been waiting it out, biding his time until she came back to him. Or maybe he was the kind of guy that didn't care about the monogamy thing.

The night Rosalie set me up with one of Emmett's friends flashed through my mind. The firm hands and hard kisses and almost desperate pleas to be his. That wouldn't come from a man who was okay sitting back and watching someone he cared about be with someone else.

"Bella?"

I snapped out of my mind, feeling my cheeks flush at the memories floating through my head of the man sitting across from me. Who was now getting a divorce. So he could move on with someone else. An all too familiar knot of dread weighed down my stomach.

"Okay," I nodded, focusing on the topic at hand now, and not my frustrating feelings. "From the file… was there a specific way you wanted to try and play it?"

It didn't matter that Edward wasn't one for press; when you're the host of one of the few main late-night television shows _and_ the son of one of the most influential couples in the industry, it was news. That would get dissected and misinterpreted and discussed a hundred different times the first day it was announced.

Edward shrugged, his eyes looking a little lost. "With the truth."

I leaned on the arm of my chair, biting at my nails and thinking. "We should postpone the interview. Next weekend at the earliest."

Edward looked at me, brows raised.

"You're going to want every opportunity you can to set the record straight once the public gets ahold of the truth."

"Okay," he nodded.

The last thing I wanted to do was bring up that disastrous night, but I had to. "Was there anything from the, uh, file I gave you that you wanted to use, or didn't want to use?"

Edward pushed a piece of paper toward me. "I… liked this one, best."

It was one of the dozens of press releases that had been in his folder. It was the one I figured he was least likely to ever want, because it was the truth. The years of separation, the separate houses, Irina's life with Demetri, it was all in there.

"Okay," I nodded. "I'll send it to a couple outlets Monday morning."

Edward let out a heavy sigh, scrubbing his hands over his face. "I'm sorry you have to clean up my mess," he told me, voice gruff. "I'm sorry I can't trust anyone else to do it. I-I'm sorry I fucked this whole thing up, Bella."

I wanted to tell him he didn't have to apologize, that he didn't fuck anything up, but he kind of did. Fuck up my entire life. Every carefully crafted wall I had built up around me was crumbled and I was left exposed to so many elements that I didn't know how to deal with.

Days when I didn't see him were okay at best. Days like today, I didn't really know how to look him in the eye after the number of times he had seen me naked. Part of me wanted to tell him I couldn't do it anymore, knowing it was only going to get harder now that he was going through with the divorce. But, then he would say things about how he didn't trust anyone else and I just couldn't turn my back on him. Not after all of this.

I sighed and stood up. "We can finish the video content today, but I'll reschedule the interview for next weekend."

I caught a slight wince, maybe when he realized I didn't let him off the hook for fucking things up. But he nodded nonetheless. "Thank you."

**-B-**

When I got home that night I ended up sitting on the couch for longer than should be acceptable, staring at a black television. I had hours of work to do now that I knew Edward was filing divorce papers Monday, but I couldn't bring myself to move. I was tired and sad and suddenly furious with him.

Up until this point I had blamed the whole thing on myself. My naivety, my inexperience, my butterflies. My conversation with him this morning made me realize it wasn't just my fault, though.

Edward backed me up against a wall, literally, that first night in New York. He was the one with the playful smirks the next morning, talking about us enjoying each other. He was the one with the emerald eyes it was impossible to say no to.

It was a completely consensual relationship and that meant both of us were equally responsible for the whole, messy situation. Not just me. I was responsible for agreeing to still work for him when I was hopelessly in love with the guy. Something I was now realizing was increasingly torturesome.

"So, are you ready to talk about it?" Rosalie's voice broke me out of my thoughts.

My eyes snapped up to see her standing in front of the television, still in her clothes from the gym. The woman was a personal trainer and basically sweat for a living but still came home looking more put together than I ever felt.

"Talk about what?"

Icy blue eyes rolled at me. "The affair you were having with your boss, Bella. You've been avoiding the subject for two weeks, and it's obviously not working."

I sighed, shoulders sagging and energy draining. The whole secrecy thing was exhausting. I still felt like I shouldn't talk about it, and it wasn't like I was going to be blabbing everything around town.

Rose nodded, realizing she won me over. "This calls for chips, queso, and margaritas. Get changed and we'll leave in twenty."

Thirty minutes later I flopped into a booth in the back on a little Mexican restaurant down the street from us.

"Okay," Rosalie sighed after ordering the necessities. "Spill."

I took her instruction to heart and spilled everything. The hopeless crush I tried to kill for my first month working for him to the dinner Edward took me out for our first night in New York. I glossed over the illicit moments, even though I could tell Rosalie was holding back questions about it. I told her about the morning coffees and stolen nights when we were alone. She interrupted me when I told her about my meeting with Esme and Alice.

"That was a pretty shitty thing to do," Rosalie grumbled across from me. "Tricking you into taking the blame if he got mad at the suggestion. And talk about an invasion of privacy. First his mother hires a publicist without his permission then uses said publicist to convince him to get a divorce?"

"They were just trying to help him. The whole situation… it's a mess." Yeah, it seemed Esme and Alice had a history of stepping into other people's business. But, if I had spent sixteen years being forced to spend time with Irina, I'd be looking for any possible way out, too.

Rose shrugged. "No offence, but the guy sounds like a bit of a pussy."

"Rosalie!" I scolded, frowning in her direction.

"You can't play sweet, innocent little Bella anymore. Not when you've been having hot, secret sex for a month without telling me a single detail."

I blushed, thankful we were in the back corner of the restaurant and there was no one near. I quickly bypassed her pressing for explicit details. "He's not… he just got complacent, I think. And worried about what the divorce and subsequent media circus would do to his kids. He was just trying to keep from getting anyone hurt."

"Yeah, well, he kind of broke you in the process, didn't he?"

I shook my head. "I'm not his problem. It was just sex and I took it too far, Rosalie. I was very aware of the dynamic the whole time."

I sat back and took a sip of my water, having switched to the more hydrating option after my second margarita. Even after the hours of talking things through, I hadn't solved anything. It felt good, though, finally getting everything I had been holding in out of me.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Rosalie asked quietly.

I let out a heavy sigh, looking over at the only friend I had ever been able to keep. "Because you would have tried to talk some sense into me."

Rose nodded. "Can I talk some sense into you, now?"

I shrugged. "You can try."

"I think some distance would do you good. I know you work for the guy, but maybe do as much as you can via emails or phone calls. It might help you get desensitized to everything."

I had tried the whole distance thing before, but that had been while I was still seeing him every day regardless. Maybe now that I wasn't working exclusively at the theater, I could really commit to it.

**-B-**

It was easy to distance myself from Edward once the news got out about his divorce because I was busier than I had ever been. It was a bloodbath of fake stories and insider scoops for a while, and I made a point to discredit every single one I could find. Ones involving his children typically didn't stay up for more than twelve hours.

Of course, there was also a lot of truth in some of the articles and I couldn't really do much about those. People tended to side with Edward, considering he wasn't the one with a live-in significant other for the past seven years. But, there were also a handful of people, like Rosalie, who thought he was less of a man for putting up with it in the first place.

Thankfully, considering there were two minors involved, all of their divorce proceedings were confidential. No one was going to know any details about the prenup that we didn't want out, or custody agreements or alimony or anything. As long as Irina kept her mouth shut.

It had been two months since spilling my guts to Rosalie and I committed to the whole distance thing. I had seen Edward four times during that period; two interviews, and two photoshoots. I even managed avoiding saying a single word to him at the last shoot.

It made things easier in the sense that I didn't get that same soul-crushing depression I tended to get when I spoke to him, coming from the realization that I was hopelessly in love with a man I couldn't have. But, it also made me realize that the distance thing wasn't working as fast as I had hoped, because I missed him.

The whole situation made me revert to my not-so-healthy habits of staying up until three in the morning working or pushing off my own issues until they hit me in the face, literally. All reasons I had cracked and made an appointment with a therapist this afternoon.

First, I had the unfortunate job of dropping off a box of advance prints of Edward's two magazine covers that were delivered to me instead of him. It was a Friday afternoon, so I should have been able to safely drop them off at his place without running into him, but he had the day off.

Ashley, the musical guest during Edward's Saturday Night Live episode, called and distracted me on my drive over. She had called me a couple times in the last few months, all discussing her publicity and what she wanted to do and how to accomplish it.

"You work for a bunch of dicks, did you know?" she asked, sounding exasperated on the phone.

"I know," I grumbled. Newton had become an even bigger pain in the last couple months. He was pissed at me for not giving him any warning about the divorce and the fact that Edward refused to work with his son.

I knew Ashley had met with him and Cheney and requested me, but they told her I wasn't available. Again, trying to push Mike on her.

"If you're Cullen's publicist, you're obviously good. What's with them?"

"I'm pretty sure Newton hates me," I admitted. It had been obvious that I was a scapegoat for the Edward situation; an easy person to let go once his attempt to straighten up his reputation failed. Then, I actually accomplished something with him and he wanted Mike to take the credit. Edward didn't let him, and now it was my fault. So, along with the full time job of managing Edward's divorce, Newton was also throwing every menial task at me, too. And, apparently refusing people when they requested me.

"Well, I stand by my assessment that he's a dick," Ashley said as I pulled into Edward's driveway.

My stomach tightened, seeing the familiar house in front of me. I quickly shook my head of memories of pulling up to the house with an excited energy of the night to come and turned off the car and popped the trunk.

"I can recommend some good people at the firm, or other places if you want," I offered. I hadn't actually seen her since New York, but I liked her. She wasn't afraid to say what she felt and had gone through the trouble of actually contacting me after New York. But, I knew Newton wasn't going to change his mind any time soon.

"No, I'll wear him down eventually," she sighed.

I held my phone against my ear with my shoulder, pulling out the box of magazines from the trunk. After maneuvering the box to rest against my side while slamming the trunk closed, I was met with bright green eyes walking toward me.

"I, um, have to go," I mumbled into the phone. I heard Ashley's goodbye before I hung up and slipped the phone into the pocket of my jeans.

"Bella," Edward greeted with a soft smile, hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans.

He stood right in front of me now, the simple act of him standing a few feet away calming the nerves I had worked up. Even in the worst situation, I knew I could trust him. He would never purposefully hurt me and I was pretty sure he was one of maybe three people I could call in an emergency and trust to show up. Even now, when I hadn't seen him in so long, I knew that.

And I hated it.

"Hi," I sighed. "These are for you."

"Right," Edward said with a soft smile. I could have sworn he purposefully ran his thumb against the back of my hand when he grabbed the box.

"Um, they're good. The articles," I clarified, not sure what else to say but breaking every rule I had put in place for myself and not wanting to leave just yet.

"They were a good suggestion," he countered. His eyes were familiar and bright, staring over at me like I had all of the answers. "It's been a long time since I've seen you."

"I know," I sighed, pressing my lips together and nervously tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"You look good," he said softly.

"You too," I responded without thinking. I had yet to see the man not look good, though.

We stood there for a good three minutes, standing three feet from each other in his driveway, eyes locked and mouths silent. I had been… fine since things ended. Okay. I was never a stunning example of a well-adjusted adult in the first place, but it wasn't like our 'relationship' ending made me incapable of living my life.

I could admit that I missed him and still wanted him. But I was proud of myself for not completely crumbling right here in front of him. Granted, all I really wanted in the moment was a good hug, the kind where he pressed a kiss to the top of my head and didn't let go until he gave me one last good squeeze. I managed to keep myself in place, though.

"I should probably go," I sighed eventually.

"It's taco night," Edward blurted out, elaborating when I frowned at him. "I'm making tacos. And nachos. For dinner. If you wanted to stay."

The way he stuttered over his words made me want that hug even more. "I don't think that's a great idea," I admitted with a sad smile. "Your kids kind of hate me."

"They don't hate you."

I gave him an incredulous look. "Yes, they do. But, I get it."

I had kept my nose out of the details of Edward's divorce. I knew things were moving along, because he would send me little updates now and then when it was prevalent to my job, but I didn't know much. I had no idea what their prenup agreement was like or how hard Irina was fighting him on everything. I did know he and his lawyers were nearly certain on getting him at least an even split on custody. The sudden look of exhaustion when his kids were mentioned wasn't a good sign, though.

"Is everything going okay with them and the, uh, divorce?"

Edward shrugged. "Depends on the day."

"Do you regret doing it?" I asked softly, guilt quickly filling my gut.

"No," he responded quickly. "I should have done it sooner, I know that. I just…"

"You don't owe me an explanation. I was just making sure I didn't fuck things up more than I already had."

Edward quickly shook his head, frowning over at me. "You didn't fuck anything up. I owe you… more than I'll ever be able to repay you, Bella."

He didn't owe me anything, because his mother paid me for most of what I did for him. For getting him out of his marriage… making it possible for him to move on with someone else.

"I should go," I sighed.

Edward nodded, taking a few steps back so I could get to my car door. "It was good to see you, Bella."

I took a deep breath and nodded, dropping myself into the car. "You, too."

I replayed the entire conversation in my head as I drove through traffic, toward the office of my soon-to-be therapist. I was surprisingly good with therapists, even with my lacking conversational skills in general. Probably because they were legally prohibited from repeating anything I said to anybody.

Seeing Edward left me on edge and more confused than I had been in a while. I fiddled with my fingers in the waiting room, then all the way through Doctor Stanley's introduction.

"You've been to therapy before?" she asked me, voice as calm and soothing as could be.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I have a lot of issues. But, that's not really why I'm here," I said, my words coming out fast and a little jumbled. "I just have this one thing I need you to help me get over."

She looked at me, perfectly shaped brows raised. "And what is that?"

"There's this guy," I sighed. "And I want him. But I can't have him. So, I need you to make me okay with that."

**-B-**

Two weeks later things were simultaneously the same and completely different. I still wanted a man I couldn't have. Still worked myself to sleep most nights so I didn't think about it. Still avoided him, and my mountain of other issues, as much as possible.

I was also twenty-three now. Went to therapy twice a week and hated every second of it. And, now… now I was staring at a picture of myself with my arms around Edward Cullen's neck in his pool.

I had walked out of my bathroom, towel wrapped around me after my shower, and there it was. Flashing on my television that was supposed to be telling me scandalous stories about _other_ people. Not myself.

My phone vibrated non-stop on my bedside table.

The newscaster made some bitchy remark about me _sinking my claws_ into Edward.

All I could do was sit there, on my bed still wrapped in a towel, and watch it all happen.

I didn't care to think about who took the picture in the first place or how it got leaked without me knowing about it. I couldn't even be mad about it. From the very first night in New York I knew this could, would, happen eventually. My career path existed precisely because of this kind of thing.

I still felt this overwhelming sense of failure as I looked at the picture on the screen and it was all I could do not to crawl into bed and never leave because of it.

My day was suddenly going to be much different than I thought it would be, so I ditched the outfit I had planned to wear and threw on some jeans and a black t-shirt. Getting fired hardly called for business-casual dress.

I emptied every backup charger and notebook from my bag, only keeping my keys in their designated pocket. My phone was still a constant stream of emails and calls that cancelled each other out. I turned it off and tossed it in, too. My desk at work wasn't cluttered, but there were a few things I'd need to pack up.

As I drove down to the office, I realized a few unfortunate things. I had been angry a majority of my life. Angry at my parents, their new families, all of the people that constantly ignored me or looked past me when I asked for help. But, maybe they were all right. Maybe I was the problem.

I was awkward and unapproachable in most situations. Conversations with me were like pulling teeth. And I ruined everything I touched. It was a fucking miracle I had survived this long.

I was eternally grateful for the private parking garage under the office when I saw a crowd of men holding cameras near the front door. In the elevator the woman beside me stared at me for the eight-floor ride until she got off.

The office was full of quiet whispers and stares as I walked in. On cue, Newton's voice echoed through the room as he shouted for me in his office. I got two muttered _slut's_ before I walked through the door to his office.

It was a packed room. Newton, Cheney, one man I recognized from the legal department and a woman from human resources. I only took a couple steps in, stopping in the middle of the open floor with four sets of eyes on me.

"How long have you been fucking him?" Newton spat out, frowning across the room at me. He and his son were look-a-likes. Both blond haired, blue eyed assholes.

"Does it matter?" I countered with a shrug.

Newton's nostrils flared and I could only imagine what he would say to me if he weren't surrounded by other people.

"Ms. Swan, if Mr. Cullen coerced you into – "

"He didn't coerce me into anything."

The man, the lawyer whose name escaped my mind, frowned over at me. "If you want to keep your job, you might what to change your story."

I shook my head, surprisingly unsurprised as the suggestion. "He didn't coerce me into anything," I repeated slowly.

"Well," Newton sighed, eying me up and down. "I guess we know why he was so willing and adamant about working with you."

For the first time in a long time, I let my anger snap.

"Oh, fuck you, Newton," I spat out. "I did the job every other fucking person here was too lazy to do and I did it well. And you have punished me for months because of it, you insufferable, misogynic prick!"

Newton balked at me, his own insult obviously bubbling up, but Cheney stood from his spot, a firm hand on Newton's shoulder to keep him calm.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he said calmly. "We're going to have to let you go."

"Right," I nodded, rolling my eyes as I turned around for the door.

"Holly from human resources can walk you out – "

"I don't need an escort," I snapped. "I just need to get a few things from my desk and I'm gone."

I let the door slam shut behind me, ignoring the jumps and new stares from everyone around me. Standing at my tiny desk, I dropped pens and notebooks and anything else my hands touched into my bag. After a couple minutes, a new round of hushed whispers started and I looked around to see what I had done to get everyone's attention now.

To make a shitty day even worse, I was met with the sight of Edward stepping into the office, Renata Serrano beside him. Maybe she finally agreed to take him on as a client.

I figured ignoring each other would be the best way to go about the whole thing, so I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. I made sure to keep my eyes down and away from him, though I wasn't sure why they had seemed to freeze in the entryway.

A warm hand gently grabbed my arm as I walked by.

"You know, I really hate this whole ignoring me thing you've got going on."

I looked up at him with a frown and a shake of my head. "You shouldn't be… here… with me. Newton is in his office – "

"Did they already fire you?" Renata interrupted.

"Yeah," I scoffed.

"I'm sorry," Edward groaned, thumb of the hand still around my arm rubbing circles into my skin. I quickly pulled my arm away when I realized it.

"I was fucking my only client, so it's not that surprising," I snapped.

"Do you want me to try and talk to him?" Edward offered.

I chuckled humorlessly at his offer. "I kind of… snapped in there. They're not changing their mind."

"You don't need them," Renata interrupted. "Edward will tell you the details. It's my turn to see that vein on Will's forehead explode. I'll see you soon, Bella," she said with a kind, almost devious smile before walking away.

I had no idea what anything she said meant. And I was tired and angry and had that stupid pit of despair in my stomach that came with being around Edward these days.

When I turned to leave, Edward's hand ended back up on my arm. "Bella – "

"Shouldn't you be meeting with Newton?" I asked, hoping to distract him.

Edward frowned at me. "I'm not here for him. I'm here for you."

I sighed, eyes falling to the ground. "I signed an NDA with the company before the first time I talked to you, Edward. I told them it was completely consensual. You're fine."

It was a valid worry, especially in today's climate. I would have hoped he knew me better than to think I'd run to a news station with anything about him, though.

"Christ, I don't care about that, Bella. You know I don't."

"Then I don't know what else you want from me, Edward!" I gasped, my voice coming out louder and higher than I wanted. I felt tears stinging my eyes and blinked them away as quickly as I could.

Without another word Edward's arm wrapped tight around my waist and he pulled me to the elevator. We had been off to the front of the office, out of earshot of most people, but still within eyesight.

Once the elevator doors closed I stepped out of his grasp and squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, stopping the imminent tears for the time being. When I opened them back up Edward's eyes were on me, soft and sympathetic.

"I know I don't deserve anything from you, but will you give me the chance to explain?"

"You don't have anything to explain," I told him, running my fingers through my hair. I hadn't done anything with it this morning, so it was full of messy, incomplete waves with a few scattered pin straight clumps because my hair was on the bipolar side.

"Please," he begged.

Because I was a sucker for soft green eyes, I had no choice in the matter.

"Okay."

**A/N: We're finally to the good stuff! Maybe soon I'll actually be able to give you a happy, angst-free chapter. The next chapter is the last for this story, but the sequel will pick right up from there. The next chapter is also the EPOV you've all been asking about. **

**I hope you're all doing well and are as safe and healthy as you can be. I'll see you soon!**


	19. Chapter 19

_Bad, bad butterflies in my chest_

_There's something I gotta confess_

_Yes, somebody's stuck in my head_

_~ Camila Cabello, __**Bad Kind of Butterflies**_

**EPOV - **_**Present**_

Every family had their fuck up. The black sheep of the group that was the topic of conversation every holiday, without fail. Some were worse than others. The black sheep of one family could be the kid that ended up being a lawyer instead of a doctor, while others were the notorious drug dealer or college drop out.

I had the honor of being the Cullen family black sheep. I started my reign when I was eighteen and held it up ever since. Got my girlfriend pregnant the summer after I graduated high school. Got married to a woman I only kind of thought I could maybe fall in love with. Tried to follow my mother into acting for a few years and sucked royally at it. Had a string of odd hosting gigs after realizing acting wasn't for me.

Professionally, I got my act together for a while. I had always had an easy time talking to anyone and my sarcasm was often mixed with humor so late-night television was a perfect fit for me. Even then, though, I knew I hadn't earned my job. Historically, there was a line of succession when it came to hosting _The Tonight Show_ and I was pretty sure my last name threw a wrench in that plan for me when I was twenty-seven.

I did love it, though. And I thought, even if I hadn't earned it in the first place, I could prove that I deserved it eventually. Because even if I hated the politics and hoops of the entertainment industry, there were some genuinely talented and special people occupying it. And it was my job to talk to them and help the world get to know them, and I loved it.

Personally, my life had always been a mess. Irina and I got along fine, but we weren't in love. We both pretended for years, maybe hoping it would happen eventually after we spent enough time together, but it never did. Especially when I knew what love really was.

I never had a good grasp on it romantically, but the second I held two crying babies, I knew the basics of it. Because they could shit in my shoe or cry all night and I still loved them. They pulled at my hair and screamed when I didn't give them candy before dinner and I still would've done anything to keep them safe. They turned into a couple of hormonal, confrontational teenagers and I still wanted to do everything I could to protect them from the world.

I tried so hard to keep it all together. For those two crying babies. For my family. I tried to ditch that title of Cullen family fuck up even when my wife ended up living with my – former – best friend and my ratings were down. It all felt like it was held together by a string, and I felt like the idea that I was happily married _was_ that string. The second our divorce was on the table all hell would break loose.

Irina would hold nothing back to try and look like the victim in the situation.

My kids' names and pictures would be scoured across the internet.

My show would probably get put on an indefinite hiatus until my personal life wasn't more interesting than the person I was interviewing.

Eventually my kids seemed happy and my family stopped gossiping about my life every holiday. Things got easy and I got used to the arrangement I had with Irina and Demetri.

Then, I walked into my dressing room after finishing a show and this tiny spitfire of a brunette called me an asshole and told me my show was shit. And, in my attempt to try and make everyone happy, I destroyed the one woman who constantly fought for me.

Yes, part of it was because she was paid to do it, but she cared. She saw through every line I tried to give her and she worked day and night to save my career. And she was so fucking beautiful I couldn't see straight when she was close. I could blame that on every way I had fucked things up with her, but it was all on me.

I cracked that night in New York and I convinced her that there was nothing wrong with enjoying each other. She worked tirelessly to solve every one of my problems and I did nothing but cause hers. The story was a jumbled mess in my mind, no matter how many times I tried to figure out where it all went wrong. Or right. I still wasn't sure.

**-B-**

_**Past**_

"Dibs," Masen said, coming to stand behind me as I watched Isabella drive away.

"No," I told him, closing the door and walking back inside.

"You can't break the rules of dibs, Dad."

I sighed, leaning over the dark kitchen counter. My son truly was a walking hormone. It was bad enough dealing with the long showers and locked doors and conversations with his friends I greatly regretted walking in on. I also had the other side of the equation; Lucy who was frustratingly beautiful and asked me once a week if she could go out. On a date out. Which wasn't fucking happening after the things I had heard her brother's friends talking about.

"She's twenty-two, Mase. It's illegal." Parenting rule number one was the moment you told a teenager they couldn't do something, they did it. I was hoping the whole illegal tactic would work better than a flat-out refusal.

"But…" he muttered, frowning and probably trying to find some loophole. "Damn. I mean, did you see her ass?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, pinching the bridge of my nose because, unfortunately, I had seen her ass. And it was spectacular.

Last night I turned around in my dressing room and she was sitting there. A tiny little thing with silky chocolate hair that I wanted knotted between my fingers and delicate, pale skin that wasn't often found around Los Angeles. She had dark coffee eyes that seemed guarded and slightly insecure. And she had an ass that I was pretty sure would fit perfectly in the palm of my hand.

The fact that my son had noticed said ass made me feel even more like an ass. If I decided to work with her, I was going to have to remind myself that she was twelve years younger than me and certainly didn't want someone sliding closer to forty every day ogling her. After today, that _if_ was a _when_ and part of me was devastated that meant I had to keep my thoughts away from the more exciting scenarios where Isabella was concerned.

Putting aside my blatant and obvious attraction to her, she seemed good at her job. Thorough. It was equal parts refreshing and infuriating that she had called me out on all of my shit in a span of thirty minutes.

My show was shit and I was on the brink of being replaced.

My marriage was a sham and holding me back from moving on with my life.

I was lying to everyone, myself included, when I said everything was fine.

They were all things I already knew, and most of them problems I had come to terms with. My marriage and my personal life were an intricate web of lies and fake smiles. It was a fucked-up situation that I wasn't all that happy about. But, it had been seven years and I was used to it. Complacency and comfort were powerful things.

I was furious that I had let the show get to this point. And that I needed a publicist to come in and tell me it had gotten so bad. I knew it wasn't doing as well as it once was, but shows went through lulls all of the time. According to Isabella, mine had been in one for years and it was all my doing.

Once she left and I had time to think, I was starting to realize she was right. Two years was the timeline she gave, and I didn't have to do the math to realize it probably started right about when I tried to file for divorce.

Just remembering the threats she hurdled at me that night was infuriating. I didn't love the woman and had only the basic amount of respect for her, but I never thought she'd stoop as low as to hold a custody agreement over my head. And I realized I might not be as complacent and comfortable in the situation as I once was.

The whole thing was fucked. Demetri had been my best friend since I was ten. We spent weekends at each others houses and he came on family vacations with us. He pointed out the pretty blond in Spanish class junior year of high school. Then, ten years later I found him fucking my wife in my own home.

I shook my head of the memories, knowing all too well they would get me nowhere. _Two more years._

I could save the show, though. Maybe. It was the one thing in my life that was mine and I wanted to keep it that way. I could curb my attraction to Isabella, because I was realizing I might need her more than I thought. She was young and gorgeous and probably had a line of men jockeying for her attention. I was middle aged, married, and the father of twins. One of which was currently harboring an equally inappropriate on the girl.

She was passionate about her job, that much was obvious after the way she stormed out of here. I was realizing my life could use that fire she seemed to bring.

**-B-**

There was nothing that soured my mood more than getting a call from security that _my wife_ was on her way in. Irina and I separated right around the time I started the show. We kept up appearances. She would come in from time to time in the beginning, but it had been at least a year, maybe two since the last time she came in for a taping.

"You have a publicist," Irina said, gliding through the door without bothering to knock.

"Yes," I sighed. Everything was always very dramatic where Irina was concerned. It was a trait that got stronger with age for her. In high school she was laid back and relaxed. The kind of girl who didn't mind spending the afternoon on a hike and didn't care if her plans got cancelled at the last minute.

Now, all hell broke loose if her manicurist wasn't available when she needed her.

Irina sat in the chair opposite of me, ice blue eyes glaring in my direction. "Are you going to tell me why you sent her to accost Demetri and I and force us into signing NDAs?"

I squeezed the bridge of my nose, an early morning headache already forming. Bella had been working for me for five days. In those five days I had managed to keep my thoughts professional. Mostly. While we were at work.

So far, it had been a somewhat easy adjustment. She approved scripts and typed away at her computer non-stop. She stood beside Todd, one of the show's producers, and drew an adorable smile over her face every night when I walked out to remind me to smile. But, apparently, she had been much busier than I realized.

"I didn't send her out to do anything," I told her.

"Well then, you need to reign her in a little. What did you tell her to make her think she needed to trap us with NDAs, Edward?"

"I told her the truth, Irina," I snapped, equal parts angry at Irina for overreacting and upset that my life had become a web of NDAs.

The door opened again, this time Bella walking through. Freezing when she noticed Irina.

"You made Irina and Demetri sign NDAs?" I grunted out, frowning in Bella's direction.

"I didn't _make_ them sign anything," Bella responded with a shrug.

"Isabella – " I snapped, running a frustrated hand through my hair. "I don't want a life run by NDAs and contracts. I told you I would cooperate but this is crossing a fucking line."

My mother and father spent their entire careers playing the Hollywood game. Smiling for pictures and saying what people wanted to hear. Being the people the world wanted them to be so they didn't get fucked over in the process. Having their every decision run by a publicist to see how the public would react to an announcement or film or _anything_.

I had seen it happening my whole life, and I never wanted that to be me. I wanted to do what I wanted, when I wanted. Maybe it sounded a little immature, but watching my parents plan when and how they could tell people she was pregnant with Alice when I was eight just… confused the hell out of me. It wasn't a game I was interested in.

I was well aware that I was a fucking hypocrite for feeling like that kind of lifestyle was torture and having the job that I did. But, I liked to think my job was more about the people than anything else. At least, it used to be.

"Well, all due respect Mr. Cullen, if that was the case then you got in the wrong business. Do you know how many people would kill for your job? How fast they would exploit your marriage situation to benefit them?"

Bella's way of thinking was all about the game, what the other players were going to do. "I understand, technically, she's your wife. But she's also living down the street with another man. She's not my client. I don't care about her or her feelings or her reputation.

"I've tried to take things slow, because I know you're trying. But this," she continued, waving a hand between Irina and I. "Is going to blow up in your face eventually. I'm just trying to do my fucking job and put that off for as long as possible."

As the man paying her salary, I should have been pissed at how she talked to me. As the man with an unhealthy attraction to her, I thought she was sexy as hell. And, as the man who had been pushing my own needs back for years, I found it oddly refreshing to have someone watching my back.

**-B-**

_**Present**_

I had never seen her cry. Granted, we weren't in many situations where tears were warranted. But, hell, her step-brother nearly broke her nose and I wasn't sure if she ever shed a tear the entire night over it. It was the karma I deserved, though, being the reason for her voice cracking and the one, single tear sliding down her cheek before she shoved it away angrily.

Bella hadn't argued when I led her through the parking garage, toward my Mercedes. I held her door open and she fell inside without a word.

The drive was silent and I had to keep my hand gripped firmly on the gear shift to keep from grabbing hers. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. I had so many ideas, every grand gesture in the book ready to go to get her back when the time was right. Somehow, yet again, I had managed to fuck up.

Once parked in the driveway I managed to get to Bella's door before she opened it. She looked heartbreakingly uncomfortable, arms crossed over her chest and a deep frown on her lips. When I held the front door open for her, she hesitated.

"Um, are Lucy and Masen here?" she asked quietly.

"No," I responded quickly. "They're at school."

"Oh," she mumbled. "Right."

There had been a time when she would walk through that door with a bright smile on her face. She would grab my hand and we would stumble into the living room for a glass of wine. Now, she stood uncomfortably in the doorway with unsure eyes and I fucking hated myself for it.

"Living room?" I asked quietly, gesturing for her to go ahead.

Bella nodded, following me and dropping herself on the couch in the living room with a sigh.

I went to the adjoining kitchen and grabbed her a bottle of water. When I turned around, I was overwhelmed with a sense of déjà vu. Bella on the couch, head in her hands was eerily similar to how I found her in the middle of the night after the incident with her step-brother.

As fucked up as that situation was, that was the night I stopped fighting. It had been weeks of back and forth, of us trying to find some kind of compromise between us. Bella was excellent at her job and I was reluctant to the whole publicity thing. I was trying to balance saving my job with keeping my family happy all while lusting after the woman working herself non-stop to help me.

But, fuck, I just didn't care after that night. I didn't care that she was only twenty-two or that I practically signed her paychecks. I had gotten a tiny taste at who she was outside of the laptops and press releases and I was desperate for more.

I didn't just want her in my bed at that point. I wanted to comfort her and keep her safe and make her smile.

Looking at her now, months later in the aftermath of it all, not caring about the consequences might have been my biggest fuck up of all.

**-B-**

_**Past**_

I was screwed. In the very good sense of the word, and the very bad sense of the word. Ignoring every ounce of logic in my brain, I could convince myself the good way far outweighed the bad way. Because I had a tiny little brunette with her head buried in my shoulder. She had a leg thrown over mine and an arm across my chest.

I knew all of the things I had so desperately wondered about her since the moment I saw her. I knew how her skin felt beneath my fingers and I still had her taste on my tongue. I brushed my fingers through her hair as she slept and traced gentle patterns along her arm with my other hand just because I could.

Tonight had far surpassed any fantasy I had that starred the woman in my arms, but it did nothing to dull the ache I had for her. Knowing I was the only one that had ever gotten to experience her… taste her… watch her come… it was addicting. It would only get better, too, because I would have her whimpering my name again right now if I didn't know she was probably sore and uncomfortable.

We were still screwed. As much as I knew stories about an affair with my publicist would hurt my career, they would decimate Bella's. And anyone that spent ten minutes with the woman knew she lived for her job.

This town was full of secrets, though. Hell, I had kept my separation and every other woman I had been with since a secret for seven years. Even as scenarios floated through my mind, I had to remind myself that Bella and I were at different stages in our lives. She was young and inexperienced and sure as hell not looking to tie herself to someone twelve years her senior with twins.

Still, we both ended up here. We weren't in some power exchange position, and I sure as hell hoped she knew it wasn't something like that. She was attracted to me. I was attracted to her. We were consenting adults who could enjoy each other while we wanted.

She certainty didn't need or want my baggage and my life prevented us from having anything more than this for at least two years. We could enjoy ourselves while we wanted and there was nothing wrong with that.

At least, that's what I convinced myself of by morning.

**-B-**

She was trying to kill me. There was no other reason for a dress that was held together by a couple of strings and was cut low enough to see the tiny cluster of freckles between her breasts. The real kicker was she was wearing the dress to go on a date.

With another man.

Which she had every right to do, especially considering I walked around with a wedding band around my finger every day.

She told me it was just to placate her roommate, make it so she didn't ask any questions about canceling at the last minute, but it would happen eventually. Bella would meet someone who could take her out to dinner and call her his and not have to hide her away. The further we got into this little arrangement we had, the more pissed off I was that it couldn't be me.

As much as I tried to convince myself that this was just sex, it wasn't. She was under my skin in a way no other woman ever was. And, after New York, I knew it wasn't just the sex that had me drawn to her. As fan-fucking-tastic as it was.

I thought she had regretted it for a while. Once my family showed up, maybe it made her realize what we were really doing. She walked around with those sad chocolate eyes and I hated them. I realized that I couldn't have it both ways, and I didn't want to lose her.

So, I gave her an out because having a little slice of Bella, even if only in a professional capacity, was better than losing her for good. A decision I was shocked at myself for making because the sex was mind-blowing. And I hadn't had enough of her. Never would, probably.

She didn't take it, though. Which, to me, made her mine. For now.

I had never been the possessive, over bearing type. Hell, I was fine with the woman carrying the title of my wife living with another man for the last seven years. But picturing her, in that dress, out with another man had me on edge, fuming with jealousy, from the moment she left.

Before I got in my car to head home, a good hour after Bella had originally left, I sent her a few quick texts. Partly to remind her she was coming to me when the night was over, and partly to remind myself.

**I can't wait to have you naked. **

** Begging for my cock. **

** Screaming my name. **

Driving wasn't the distraction I needed it to be, and I was an impatient man when it came to Bella. Not long after I texted her I pulled up her name on the car's control panel, not caring if I was interrupting her _date_.

When she answered I was met with loud music and muffled conversations. "Hold on!"

A minute later the noise was gone, so suddenly I thought I might have lost the connection until her mumbled "Sorry."

"Are you finished?" I grunted, still uncomfortably frustrated with her out with another man as I pulled into my neighborhood.

"Yes," she breathed out. "I'll be there in half an hour."

Once I got home I went straight for the bar, pouring myself a generous glass of scotch. I spent seven goddamn years fine with the state of my life, as fucked as it was. No, most men wouldn't want to stand aside while their wife lived with another man, but I was stuck. Irina would become a living hell once I filed for divorce, and I didn't want Masen or Lucy in the middle of that. And I knew I owed her… everything.

But, Bella, she made me feel like myself. Want a life of my own, with her by my side. A life I couldn't have.

I heard her pull into the driveway, eying her up and down through the glass door before I let her in. With the door locked behind her, I finished my scotch in one swig and dropped the glass on the table beside the door.

"What was his name?" I asked, turning to face her.

"What?"

My jaw tensed. "The name of the man you were just out on a date with, Isabella. What was his name?"

"Oh," she muttered.

_Oh._ She had me raging with jealously all night and _oh_ was the response I got.

"Um, Alec."

Alec. Fucker.

I lifted her chin gently, my thumb tracing over her bottom lip. I knew what _Alec_ was probably thinking the whole time he had her attention. They were the same thoughts I had for a month before I got the real thing.

Bella sucked my thumb into her mouth slowly, as if she were thinking of the same thing I was.

"You're going to be the death of me," I groaned, pushing my finger further into her mouth, suppressing another groan when her tongue wrapped around it. I pulled my hand away, knowing I had bigger plans for the night.

Bella tugged on my tie, pulling me down to her level for a kiss, and I was done waiting. With my hands around her thighs I had her in my arms. She was a tiny thing and easy to carry upstairs. Her teeth sunk into my bottom lip and my hands squeezed her ass in response, earning myself a rewarding squeak.

Any guilt I ever had about taking her virginity was long gone, especially as she tugged furiously at my clothes. She was so new to sex, but never apprehensive after that first night. There was never an ounce of shyness or awkwardness between us these days, not like in the first few weeks of working together.

With my chest bare I turned her around, tugging her back against my front. My hands were greedy, one covering grasping her breast over the thin material of her dress and the other sliding between her legs.

"You're mine," I grunted, visions of her with faceless men consuming me, knowing it was only a matter of time before she found one of them less of a hassle than I was.

She nodded, her head falling back against my shoulder when I slid two fingers inside of her.

"Mine," I repeated, more to myself than to her.

**-B-**

I couldn't remember it happening, not exactly. I remembered that it was the night of my birthday. The next day, technically, I supposed. I woke up in the middle of the night to soft snores muffled against my chest. Looked down at the mess of chestnut hair all over the place and I knew she was one of the most important people in my life now.

I loved her. Every hair on her head and freckle on her skin. I loved how she sometimes stumbled over her own words and how she was so driven to do her job as well as she could. I loved that she seemed to be comfortable being herself with me because I knew her childhood had affected the way she acted around people.

She was still my publicist, though. Still the twenty-two-year old who had high hopes for her career and life that didn't include being tied down with a man twelve years older than her with two kids. And a wife.

Realizing I loved her was the kiss of death for us. From that moment on, I wanted more every day and every day I could feel myself losing her. She showed up drunk and sad at midnight, looking so angry at herself when she told me _you make things better_. Lucy and Masen caught us in my parent's basement and their anger at the situation wasn't something I was prepared for.

I had fucked up a lot of things in my life, but I always thought I had been a good father. They had food on their plates every night and anything they could have wanted. They had freedom to do what they wanted, within reason, because they never gave me a reason not to trust them.

But, the way they reacted to Bella and I made me realized I had fucked up being a father without even realizing it. They thought our arrangement was normal. Good_._ Because I made them believe it. I pushed that happy, normal family façade on everyone to try and save my kids and myself from a messy, drawn out, dramatic divorce and now they thought that was how life should be.

Dinner's with Mom and her boyfriend were normal.

Weekends at Dad's were the usual.

Weekends at Dad's with his girlfriend were not acceptable.

In my effort to keep my children as happy and protected as possible, I had probably ruined their concept of a normal, happy relationship as well. Fuck, if they thought of Bella as the _homewrecker_ in this situation I had royally screwed up somewhere.

I had so many problems and no idea how to fix any of them. The one person I wanted to ask had closed in on herself again. She would stand awkwardly in the door of my office and ask me a question, or stumble over her words when Masen and Lucy were around.

Every night I would lie awake and try and come up with a plan. Something that kept everyone happy. In every scenario I had, someone I loved what hurt. I should've known, though, that the smart little brunette that accosted me in my dressing room that first night would have a plan. She always did.

She sat across from me in my bedroom, pulling papers out of that monster of a bag she carried everywhere before starting. "A lot of what I'm about to say probably won't come across great because of the fact that we're sleeping together. But, that doesn't change the fact that as your publicist and, hopefully, as a friend I want you to be happy."

_Friend._ The word rolled around in my mind and I didn't like it. She was obviously nervous and uncomfortable, fiddling with the stack of papers in her hands. Her nerves made me nervous.

"A few weeks ago, your mother and sister invited me to lunch. They told me everything," she said softly. "That you nearly filed for divorce years ago, that Irina's basically blackmailing you with your children. Your mother is scared you might get back together with her once Masen and Lucy turn eighteen."

My eyes widened, heartbeat picking up. There were a lot of things wrong with what she was saying, including my meddling mother, but the most important was that she thought I would ever get back together with Irina. "Hell will freeze over before I – "

"I know," Bella said sympathetically. "Everyone knows you've made yourself miserable for years to try and make your kids' lives easier, but you can't keep going like this, Edward."

It wasn't something I didn't already know, but it didn't change the fact that I didn't know how to fix any of it. Without losing something or someone that I loved. A divorce could lead to even less time with my kids, but possibly more time with Bella if I could somehow convince her I was worth her time. Keeping things as they were meant our relationship would never be more than an affair, but I would have an okay amount of time with my children.

Bella leaned over, handing me a hefty stack of papers and files. "This is kind of a game plan. Press releases, statements, worst-case-scenario headlines and such and what your response could be to them. I can't predict the future, but it'll get bad. You know that, it's why you put it off for so long. But, Masen and Lucy are sixteen and you deserve to move on with your life."

God, I wanted to. Move on. With her, if she'd let me. So fucking bad. "Bella, I – I can't," I groaned.

"Yes, you can."

My eyes shot up to her, because she made it sound so simple even when it wasn't. It wasn't just the fear of my kids getting dragged through a messy divorce that kept me with Irina for so long. It was the knowledge that I nearly made the biggest fuck up of my life and Irina was there to keep it from happening.

We weren't right for each other, that much was blatantly obvious. But, we made a couple of amazing kids together. Kids I selfishly asked her to get rid of as an angry eighteen-year-old.

It was the biggest regret of my life, that conversation with Irina. I was young and scared but that didn't matter. I would never be able to repay Irina enough for not listening to me, even if that meant my own misery for eighteen years while those kids grew up.

The couch dipped next to me after admitting as much to Bella. "You don't owe her anything, Edward."

I shook my head, even though I was starting to realize that this was another situation to add to the fuck up pile.

"Yes, it was a wonderful thing that Irina didn't do what you told her to and I'm sure you've thanked her in a million different ways for that. Anyone that knows you knows that you love those kids more than anything else in the world. But, all of that doesn't mean you have to sit back and punish yourself for the rest of your life for a stupid fight you had when you were eighteen."

I never told anyone my initial reaction. I always assumed anyone who knew would think I was just as pigheaded and selfish as I thought I was. Maybe it was a little masochistic, my idea that I owed Irina my last name or the money or the easy life because of the decision she made.

Gentle thumbs stroked underneath my eyes. "If anyone deserves to be happy, it's you, Edward."

_You make me happy_. I thought immediately. And, Christ, if I could really go through with whatever plan she had in this stack of papers… I leaned into her, frowning when she quickly stood up.

"That's… that's the other thing I have to talk to you about," she mumbled, eyes on the ground. "We can't… see each other like that anymore."

My breath caught in my throat, mind in a sudden panic where my thoughts were an uncontrollable mess.

"I know your divorce, if you choose to go through with it, might not go all that smoothly and I don't want to cause you any issues. And… You don't need me hovering around the theater every day anymore. I already talked to Newton about it and I'll start working from the office again Monday. Your show is good, your writers are good, and you know what you have to do, now."

All I could do was frown at her as she grabbed her bag off of the floor.

"I understand if you want someone else to handle all of that," she said quickly, motioning toward the stack of papers. "I think my job is pretty safe so if you want to request someone else… I understand. All of that is yours, theirs if they want to use it."

Confused, I stood in front of her, gently grabbing her hand. "Just because I won't see you every day… I still want you, Bella."

She pulled her hand away quickly. "I can't," she choked out, her voice cracking.

"Why?" I countered desperately.

"Because I love you," she blurted out. She sniffled and angrily wiped a tear away and all I could do was stare at her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for ruining everything. I know this was just sex and I'm not telling you this to make you feel guilty or anything. I didn't make that plan because I had some grand ideas of you leaving her and choosing me, so please don't look at it like that."

Like the true asshole that I was, my words were caught on my tongue and all I could do was stare at her. Because that… that wasn't even a possibility in my mind.

"It was those fucking butterflies… I didn't know what they meant and I didn't realize until it was too late and now it's just kind of killing me every day," she snapped. "I'm sorry."

There it was. My newest, biggest fuck up.

Since New York, she thought it was just sex for me. She thought she was _convenient_ and now that she wasn't working in the theater I wouldn't care to find her anymore. Snippets of her entire speech ran through my mind.

_You can't keep going like this. _

_You deserve to move on with your life. _

_If anyone deserves to be happy, it's you. _

_I didn't make that plan because I had some grand ideas of you leaving her and choosing me._

Christ. She made the plan to get me out of my marriage for me to be happy. Because she thought I wanted to move on with someone else. She took herself out of the equation because affairs in the midst of a messy divorce were only a bigger mess.

She didn't even fucking quit.

_Because I love you_.

By the time I could think straight I realized the room was empty. Her bag was gone, the stack of papers left on the couch beside me. I got to the front door just in time to see her back out of the driveway.

**-B-**

_**Present**_

I snapped the cap off of a bottle of water, relieved when Bella took a small sip after I handed it to her. Pulling a chair closer I sat down in front of her, elbows resting on my knees, and gave myself a minute to look at her.

I could count on one hand the number of times I had seen her in the last two months. Even though I had the instinct to go to her and fight for her every fucking day, I couldn't. Because she was right; an affair in the middle of a divorce only made it messier. And with my life now under the scrutinization of Irina's divorce lawyers trying to gouge even more money out of me, I didn't want them exposing our affair to Bella's employers.

Looking at her, my lips twitched with a smile. She was even prettier than I remembered.

I had fucked up so many times I knew I didn't really have a chance in hell with her. I knew letting her continue to work for me, defend my divorce and children and myself all while thinking our relationship had purely been physical was completely selfish. There was no one else I would ever trust enough to have that kind of responsibility, though. And, after barging into her office and having her ask me to forget that she told me she loved me, I thought maybe she changed her mind.

Still, I had this plan. Maybe fantasy was a better term for it. I'd get a divorce because it was time. Bella's plans were exceptional and she followed through on everything. I would see an article about the whole thing, full of lies in the morning and by the afternoon it was gone. Or mostly retracted. I had only seen a handful of articles about my kids and I knew it was all because of her.

Once I was officially single I would go to her. Plead on my knees if I had to. I thought the time would be good. Give us a fresh start if she wanted, or give her space to clear her head and come to her senses. I just knew she deserved to never be considered _the other woman_ and I couldn't give that to her for at least six months after I first filed for divorce.

All of those plans were shot to hell the second I saw that picture of us on the news this morning. As selfish as it was, I was kind of relieved. Because I really fucking missed her.

That relief was short lived as soon as I finally got to her office. The way her voice cracked when she said she didn't know what else I could want from her was enough for me to regret ever giving her the space I thought she deserved.

I ran a hand through my hair, tugging harshly at the strands. "I don't really know where to start," I admitted.

"You don't have to start anywhere, Edward," she sighed sadly, leaning forward to put the barely touched water bottle on the table. "It's not your fault."

I could have argued, in very specific detail, that everything was my fault, but I would save that for later. There was really one explanation that summed up why I had messed up so many times where she was concerned.

"I love you," I breathed out, wishing I could tell her that for the first time under better circumstances.

The deep frown and shake of her head were unexpected. "No, you don't."

"I do," I argued softly.

"No… you…" she mumbled, still shaking her head. Looking so sad and broken I wanted to pull my hair out in frustration. My eyes followed her as she stood, pacing behind the couch she had been sitting on.

I stood up, walking toward her slowly, and carefully cupped her cheek in the palm of my hand. "I love you," I repeated.

"No, you don't, Edward," she cried, pushing my hand away and frowning down at the floor. "No one does… no one _cares._ I ruin everything. I tried so hard to help you and I made things a hundred times worse! And I – "

Without letting her finish, I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her against me. I squeezed her to me as tight as I thought was comfortable for her, realizing I couldn't remember a time I simply gave her a hug that wasn't sexually motivated. _No wonder she thought it was just sex._

"You didn't ruin anything, Bella," I whispered against her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You have changed my life for the better in every possible way. I'll gladly spend the day outlining each and every way if you'd like. But, the short story is… I love you."

"I…" she started, pulling herself back far enough to look up at me. I held my breath, immediately thinking, hoping, she was about to say those three words again. "Still don't really believe you."

It felt kind of like a stab to the chest, but I deserved it. I watched another errant tear slip from her eyes and managed to beat her to it, wiping it away gently.

"It's okay to cry, you know," I whispered, a little confused at her vehement anger at her tears.

"Crying makes you weak and selfish," she replied softly, almost as if the response was on command.

"It makes you human, Bella," I told her, hating the confusion on her face.

I didn't even have to ask to know where she got the idea from. I saw traces of her childhood abuse in her much more than I would have liked. She didn't speak up for herself a lot, especially in larger groups. I knew she worked more than anyone else I knew, thanks to more than a few emails sent at odd hours of the night. Her idea that she ruined everything… thinking that crying was selfish… It all made me wish I had gotten a few punches in myself when they were at the theater.

"I have a lot of issues," she whispered, finally looking up at me. Her eyes were red and puffy but the amount of tears falling seemed to have slowed.

I shrugged, smiling down at her. "So do I."

"I started seeing a therapist."

Her honesty surprised me. I had no stigma toward therapy, knew quite a few people who could benefit from it. Hell, I probably needed it, too. "That's good."

"I started mostly because of you. I thought she could make all of these… feelings… go away."

I swallowed thickly. "Did it work?"

"No," Bella mumbled, traces of a smile forming on her face before they were quickly replaced by a frown. "But, I still don't… there are so many things that… I don't understand."

"I know. I have a lot to explain, if you'll let me."

She needed to know the ball was in her court. That I was all in if she wanted. With a nod of Bella's head I had us back on the couch, Bella curled in the corner with a pillow in her lap. I sat beside her, body turned toward her, and started.

I told her I was attracted to her from the moment I saw her. That I saw myself as a dirty old man after hearing my son's thoughts were eerily similar to mine after he met her. How I tried to keep my distance, for both of our sakes, and failed miserably in New York. And that once I had a taste of her I couldn't let her go. That was mostly stuff she probably already pieced together on her own, though.

The frown on her face deepened when I started telling her about how quickly my feelings changed. How jealous I was when she went out on her date with Alec and how angry I was getting at the state of my own life. I confessed to realizing I loved her and not knowing how to keep her.

"You have no idea how… disgusted I was with myself when I realized you thought it was just sex. I know I never gave you any reason to believe otherwise and I'm so sorry for that."

An apology came out of my mouth after just about everything I said to her. The only time she fought me on it was when I apologized for using the couple of months since she ended things to try and focus on fixing my family dynamic while giving her space. She frowned at me and said "You don't have to apologize for putting your kids first."

And I fell in love with her all over again.

Once I felt like I had explained as much as I could, I let out a sigh and watched her for a minute. All of the things that should have deterred me from ever pursuing her now made me want her that much more. She was young but that meant I got to experience so many firsts with her. We could travel and see the world together. I could show her that she was worthy of more love and devotion than her parents ever gave her.

She might still work for me, depending on her reaction to Renata's offer, but that meant I would get to spend more time with her than if she didn't. And with the world now privy to _that_ part of our relationship, it wasn't that big of a deal.

I shook my head, ridding myself of the too-soon thoughts.

"I'm all in, love," I sighed, the term of endearment slipping off my tongue all too easily. "If you can look past all of the baggage I bring to the table… the hormonal teenagers and divorce lawyers and odd working hours… I'm yours."

Bella's eyes snapped to me, wide and swimming with every conflicting emotion possible. "You… want me?"

"Yes," I answered immediately, my lips twitching with a smile. Finally, she seemed to be getting it.

"Even though I'm so much younger than you?"

"The age difference doesn't bother me," I shrugged. It really was the least of our issues. "Does it bother you?"

Bella shook her head, shooting a confused frown my way. "Your kids hate me."

I winced at the word hate. Lucy was having a harder time with everything than Masen, at least from what I had gotten from them so far. On the odd chance Bella was brought up, both did end up fairly uncomfortable. It was a work in progress, though.

"You've done nothing for them to hate you for."

"Irina – "

"Is the last thing you should be worried about. California law requires at least six months between the filing of divorce papers and everything being finalized. I'll be damned if this divorce goes one day over that, even with all of her demands."

"I'm kind of an… awkward person in social situations."

"You're not awkward," I shrugged. "You're _you_. And I love you."

Bella shook her head, a hint of fear back in her eyes. "You keep saying that but I…"

"It's okay," I told her. "If you give me the chance, I'll prove it."

We sat there for a minute, eyes on each other without another word until Bella slowly untangled herself from the corner of the couch, and scooted over to sit beside me. Her head fell to my shoulder and I pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Edward?" she whispered, her voice tinged with exhaustion.

I relaxed into the couch so Bella would do the same. She situated herself against my shoulder and I wrapped my arm around her, running my fingers softly through her hair. "Hmm?"

"I missed you," she mumbled, just barely on the verge of falling asleep.

A wave of relief flowed through my veins. That meant she was in, that I had another chance not to fuck this up.

"I missed you, too, love."

I wasn't even sure if she heard me, because a minute later she was fast asleep.

**-B-**

"I _don't_ want to live with her," Lucy snapped at me from across the dinner table.

Bella had practically passed out after our conversation earlier and didn't even stir when I carried her upstairs to get more comfortable in my bed. Just in time, too, because Lucy and Masen got home not long after and Lucy was… pissed.

"She's not living here, Lu," I sighed. "She had a bad day. Photographers are camped outside her house. She's just staying here for the night."

It might have been a tad presumptuous, but I really didn't want her home when just down her driveway was a crowd of men wanting her picture. Her roommate, Rosalie, had called me after she fell asleep and I got quite an earful from her that ended with her wanting me to tell Bella to go to her boyfriend's place instead of home.

She was already here, though. Sound asleep in bed. And I selfishly wanted more time with her

"Maybe if she hadn't been fucking her boss she wouldn't – "

"Lucy Alice Cullen," I snapped. "Bella has been nothing but kind to you. Can you just… give her a chance, please? For me?"

"You're already choosing her over us," Lucy snarled. "She might as well move in, so you can start your new, perfect family."

Lucy pushed away from the table and was halfway upstairs before I could say anything.

I sighed, tugging at my hair, and looked over at Masen. "You're quiet."

He sat there, seeming unfazed, and happily ate his spaghetti. Apology spaghetti that Alice dropped off yesterday.

Masen shrugged. "Lucy always kind of held out hope you and Mom would get back together. I never really thought that. I mean, I did kind of think 'the arrangement' would last forever, but maybe that was stupid."

"It was stupid of me to go along with it so long. Not stupid of you to believe it."

"Eh," Masen shrugged, slurping more pasta. The kid was a never ending pit when it came to dinner.

"You're doing okay… with everything?"

Lucy had always been much more upfront with her emotions. She had also inherited her mother's knack for the theatrics, unfortunately. Masen, though, you had to pry to figure out what the kid was really thinking.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "I mean, I totally did call dibs on Bella before you – "

"But, women are not objects to call _dibs_ on," I continued for him.

"I know, I know. But… you seemed happier. With her. And she said…"

I frowned. I wasn't sure the last time they had ever talked to her. "What?"

"I think it must have been when she, uh, broke up with you. It was the last time I saw her at the house. She said you were miserable and trapped with Mom."

I couldn't deny it, because it was the truth. As time went on, I got more and more stuck and resigned to my life. Apparently, I had done an excellent job at hiding that from my kids, though.

"And you should be happy with Bella. She's like, a decade younger than you and _hot. _And you're… kind of old. So, good for you."

I shook my head with a smile. Masen's odd way of saying he was fine with Bella and I was mostly sweet and only a little bit uncomfortable. I got up from the table and grabbed his empty plate. "Go finish your homework, kid."

"Fine," he grumbled, heading down to the basement.

Once the kitchen was clean I headed upstairs, pre-written note for Lucy in my hand. When she was little, she got fascinated by the oddest things, mail being one of them. The girl _lived_ for getting something addressed to her. In our house the tooth fairy didn't leave her money under her pillow, but mailed it the next day. She had lost that interest after a couple years, but every once in a while I would slide a letter under her door, just for old times sake.

Tonight, I had a simple piece of paper folded up, her name on top. I knew she wouldn't want to talk right now after many failed attempts to talk to her immediately following a fight in the past. I couldn't have my girl thinking she was ever second best, though.

_I would never choose anyone over you. Love, Dad._

I sat down outside of her door and slid it under the crack. A minute later it was slid back at me with what I assumed was an angry push. After a few rounds of sending the letter back and forth, it was finally gone long enough for her to be reading it.

"Love you, too," Lucy grumbled from behind the door.

Having put out more fires than I had in a long time, I was feeling awfully accomplished for the day as I made my way to my bedroom. The bed was, unfortunately, empty but so was the plate of spaghetti I had placed on the nightstand earlier, too. The door to the master bath opened and Bella walked out, wearing the clothes I had folded on the counter for her.

She was smiling down at her attire before she noticed me. "Oh. Hi."

"Hi."

"These are my size," she said, pulling at the sweatpants around her waist. The first hint of a genuine smile on her face I had seen in… a long time.

"Good, because I bought them for you." It was a full set of _The Tonight Show with Edward Cullen_ attire. Seeing her in a t-shirt with my name on it once made me realize I wanted to see it much more often. I just hadn't gotten to give her the set before.

"Thank you. And thanks for the spaghetti, and letting me stay here tonight," she mumbled. When I cocked my head to the side, curious about how she already found out about it, she pointed to the nightstand where her phone sat. "Rosalie called."

"Ah," I sighed, finally face to face. I couldn't help myself, reaching out to rest my hands on her hips. I scanned her face, realizing she still looked exhausted even after sleeping most of the afternoon. I reached a hand up, cupping her cheek and rubbing my thumb gently underneath her eye.

She truly was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She had eyes that were easy to read. A soft splattering of freckles across her nose. I knew from hours of experience that her lips were as soft as they looked, especially when she sank her teeth into her bottom lip.

My distraction led to my lips a fraction of an inch away from hers until I came to my senses and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. I smiled against her skin when I heard a soft grumble from her.

"I'm going to do things right this time, Bella," I whispered, pressing my forehead against hers. "Starting with a date."

Bella's eyebrows shot up. "A date?"

"Yes," I smiled. "Tomorrow night, if you're free."

"Well, I'm very recently unemployed so I have nothing but free time."

"You won't have much free time after you meet with Renata on Monday," I told her, continuing on thanks to her confused frown. "She's starting her own firm and wants to hire you."

"But, I – "

"You don't have to worry about it right now."

"Well, I need to – "

"Get some more sleep," I finished, backing her over to the bed. "You've got a hot date tomorrow night."

Bella frowned over at me, possibly the cutest frown I had seen in my life, as she sat cross-legged on my bed. Covered head-to-toe in my name. Cute and sexy at the same time was a great combination on her.

"I don't really understand half of what has happened today," she mumbled.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead, grabbing a pillow from behind her. "That's okay."

"What are you doing?" she asked with a frown as I tossed the pillow on the couch across the room.

"Sleeping on the couch."

Another cute frown was thrown my way. "Why?"

"Because, I'm trying to be a gentleman," I told her, disappearing into the ensuite to get ready for bed. It was fairly early, but it had been a shit storm of a day. After taking care of all the necessities I changed into some light sweatpants and a t-shirt. When I walked back out, Bella was still sitting up in the middle of the bed.

Our sleeping arrangement didn't last for long. It couldn't have been more than an hour after we both settled down when I heard shuffling feet and felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Scoot over," Bella whispered.

My eyes cracked open, seeing Bella wide awake and standing over me. The smarter decision would have been getting us both in the plush, king sized bed across the room. As I've learned, though, I was never one for smart decisions. So, I pressed myself against the back of the couch and Bella squeezed herself next to me.

She looked up at me and I could barely make out a soft smile in the dim lighting. She pressed a quick, almost shy kiss to my chin before burying her head against my chest.

I squeezed her close, revealing in her familiar scent and weight against me. I spent years trying to force myself to feel something for Irina. Had a string of women after her that were nothing more than a way to pass time, an attempt to feel anything new. All of that and nothing left me feeling anything close to what I felt now.

Five months was all it took. Simultaneously a long and short time when falling in love with Isabella Swan was the easiest thing I had ever done.

**A/N: Welp, that's all for **_**Bad Kind of Butterflies.**_** This story was a big test for me. I didn't really have much of it planned in my head when I started posting, but I kind of love where it ended up. And I'm even more excited for the sequel :)**

**I can't tell you how much every review meant to me, especially in these crazy times. It will never not amaze me when someone wants to tell me they like what I write or dissect and try to guess where things are going to go to a story that is just floating around in my mind. I hope you're all doing well and staying safe and know how much I appreciate you reading for loving these two, flaws and all, as much as I do.**

**Make sure you put me on author alert for the sequel **_**Easy**_** coming as fast as my little fingers can type it! See you then!**


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